Why  Crime 
does  not  pay 


SOPHIE  LYONS 


POPULAR  BOOKS 

I        IN  CLOTH  BINDING. 

The  following  books  contain  from 
200  to  400  pages  each,  printed  on 
best  quality  of  antique  wove  book 
paper  from  new  large  type  plates, 
many  of  them  fully  illustrated,  and 
are  handsomely  bound  in  full  cloth 
similar  to  the  regular  $1.50  books. 
Price,  sent  by  mail,  postpaid,  $1.00 
per  copy, 

The  Fortunes  of  Betty. 

By  Cecil  Spooner. 

Arsene  Lupin,  Gentleman 
Burglar. 

1  By  Maurice  Leblanc. 

Arsene   Lupin,    versus 
Herlock  Sholmes. 

By  Maurice  Leblanc. 

A  Gentleman  From  Mississippi. 

Founded  Upon  the  Play. 

The  New  Mayor. 

Founded  Upon  George  Broad- 
hurst's  Play  "  The  Man  of  the 
Hour." 

The  Devil. 

Founded  Upon  the  Play  by  Fer- 

ENC  MOLNAR. 

Way  Down  East. 

Founded  Upon  the  Play. 


The  Peer  and  the  Woman. 

By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

The  House  by  ths  River. 

By  Florence  Warden. 

The  Kreutzer  Sonata. 

By  Count  Leo  Tolstoi. 

The  Seven  Who  Were  Hanged. 

By  Leonid  Andreyev. 

The  Man  in  the  Street  Stories. 

From  the  N.  Y.  Times. 


J.  S.  OGILVIE  PUBLISHING  CO., 
57  Rose  Street,  New  York. 


#^m 


/Si 


MB 


^ 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 
Jack  Fleming  Prison  Collection 


WHY  CRIME 
DOES  NOT  PAY. 


BY 

SOPHIE  LYONS 

Queen  of  the  Underworld. 


Gr^a) 


New  York 

J.  S.  OGII/VIE  PUBLISHING  CO. 

57  Rose  Street 


COPYBIQHT,  1913,  BY 

THE  STAR  COMPANY 


CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

I.    How  I  Began  My  Career  of  Crime      .  .11 

II.  The  Secret  of  the  Stolen  Gainsborough — And  the 
Lesson  of  the  Career  of  Kaymond,  the  u  Prince  of 
Safe  Blowers, ' '  Who  Built  a  Millionaire 's  Eesidence 
in  a  Fashionable  London  Suburb  and  Kept  a  Yacht 
with  a  Crew  of  20  Men  in  the  Mediterranean  .        .      37 

III.  How  I  Escaped  from  Sing  Sing,  and  Other  Daring 

Escapes  from  Prison  That  Profited  Us  Nothing      .      62 

IV.  Women    Criminals    of    Extraordinary    Ability    with 

Whom  I  Was  in  Partnership 89 

V.    How  I  Faced  Death,  How  My  Husband  Was  Shot,  and 

Some  Narrow  Escapes  of  My  Companions      .        .    118 

VI.    Behind    the    Scenes    at    a    $3,000,000    Burglary—the 

Bobbery  of  the  Manhattan  Bank  of  New  York      .    14$ 

VII.  Bank  Burglars  Who  Disguised  Themselves  as  Police- 
men and  Other  Ingenious  Schemes  Used  by  Thieves 
in  Bold  Attempts  to  Get  Out  Their  Plunder    .        .    173 

Till.  Promoters  of  Crime — People  Who  Plan  Bobberies  and 
Act  as  il Backers"  for  Professional  Criminals — The 
Extraordinary  "Mother"  Mandelbaum,  "Queen  of 
the  Thieves,' *  and  Grady,  Who  Had  Half  a 
Dozen  Gangs  of  Cracksmen  Working  for  Him  .        .     186 

IX.  Surprising  Methods  of  the  Thieves  Who  Work  Only 
During  Business  Hours  and  Walk  Away  with  Thou- 
sands of  Dollars  Under  the  Very  Eyes  of  the  Bank 
Officials 212 


6  CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

X  Startling  Surprises  That  Confront  Criminals — How 
Unexpected  Happenings  Suddenly  Develop  and  Up- 
set Carefully  Laid  Plans  and  Cause  the  Burglars  Ar- 
rest or  Prevent  His  Getting  Expected  Plunder  .       .     225 

XL  Thrilling  Events  Which  Crowded  One  Short  Week  of 
My  Life — How  I  Profited  Nothing  from  All  the 
Risks  I  Faced 238* 

HL    €*ood  Deeds  Which   Criminals  Do  and  Which  Show 

That  Even  the  Worst  Thief  Is  Never  Wholly  Bad    .    250 


INTRODUCTION 

The  publishers  believe  that  a  picture  of  life 
sketched  by  a  master  hand — somebody  who  stands 
in  the  world  of  crime  as  Edison  does  in  his  field  or 
as  Morgan  and  Rockefeller  do  in  theirs — could  not 
fail  to  be  impressive  and  valuable  and  prove  the  oft 
repeated  statement  that  crime  does  not  pay. 

Such  a  person  is  Sophie  Lyons,  the  most  remark- 
able and  the  greatest  criminal  of  modern  times. 
This  extraordinary  woman  is  herself  a  striking  evi- 
dence that  crime  does  not  pay  and  that  the  same  en- 
ergy and  brains  exerted  in  honest  endeavor  win  en- 
during wealth  and  respectability.  She  has  aban- 
doned her  earlier  career  and  has  lately  accumulated 
a  fortune  of  half  a  million  dollars,  honestly  acquired 
by  her  own  unaided  business  ability. 

Sophie  Lyons  was  a  "  thief  from  the  cradle/ '  as 
one  Chief  of  Police  said;  at  the  early  age  of  six 
years  she  had  already  been  trained  by  her  step- 
mother to  be  a  pickpocket  and  a  shoplifter.  A  beau- 
tiful child  with  engaging  manners,  she  was  sent  out 
every  day  into  the  stores  and  among  the  crowds  of 
shoppers,  and  was  soundly  whipped  if  she  came  out 
of  a  shop  with  less  than  three  pocketbooks.  "I  did 
not  know  it  was  wrong  to  steal ;  nobody  every  taught 
me  that,"  Sophie  Lyons  writes.    "What  I  was  told 

7 


8  INTRODUCTION 

was  wrong  and  what  I  was  punished  for  was  when 
I  came  home  with  only  one  pocketbook  instead  of 
many." 

As  the  child  grew  into  womanhood  she  was  con- 
spicuously beautiful,  and  soon  became  known  as 
'*  Pretty  Sophie."  Then  romance  entered  her  life 
and  she  married  Ned  Lyons,  the  famous  bank  burg- 
lar. Her  husband  was  a  member  of  the  great  gang 
of  expert  safe-blowers  who  were  the  terror  of  the 
police  and  the  big  banks  of  some  years  ago. 

Women  are  regarded  as  dangerous  and  are  sel- 
dom taken  into  the  confidence  of  such  criminals  as 
these.  But  Sophie  Lyons  was  not  only  welcomed  to 
their  councils,  but  was  taken  along  with  them  to  the 
actual  scenes  of  their  operations.  Many  of  the  most 
daring  bank  robberies  were,  indeed,  planned  by  her 
and  to  her  quick  brain  and  resourcefulness  the  burg- 
lars often  owed  their  success. 

Sophie  Lyons  became  famous  not  only  among  the 
burglars  who  work  with  dark  lantern  and  jimmy  but 
also  among  those  specialists  who  are  called  "bank 
sneaks" — the  daring  men  who  walk  into  banks  in 
broad  daylight,  in  the  midst  of  business,  and  get 
away  with  great  bundles  of  money.  Her  fame 
spread,  too,  among  other  specialists — the  shoplift- 
ers, pickpockets,  confidence  women,  jewelry  rob- 
bers, importers  of  forbidden  opium,  and  the  men 
engaged  in  bringing  Chinamen  into  the  country  (a 
very  profitable  and  hazardous  field). 

For  twenty-five  years  Sophie  Lyons  was  "The 
Queen  of  the  Bank  Burglars."  the  active  leader  of 


INTRODUCTION  9 

many  expeditions  in  various  parts  of  the  world,  and 
with  her  were  associated  about  all  of  the  great 
criminals  of  Europe  and  America.  It  has  been  said 
that  she  has  been  arrested  in  nearly  every  large 
city  in  America,  and  in  every  country  in  Europe  ex- 
cept Turkey.  She  has  served  sentences  in  several 
prisons,  and,  on  one  occasion,  her  husband,  Ned 
Lyons,  was  in  Sing  Sing  while  she  herself  was  con- 
fined in  the  women's  wing  of  the  prison  across  the 
road.  Ned  Lyons  managed  to  make  his  escape  and 
very  soon  drove  up  to  the  women's  prison  and  ef- 
fected the  escape  of  his  wife,  Sophie  Lyons. 

But  all  this  belongs  to  the  past.  Sophie  Lyons 
has  learned  that  her  new  life  as  a  respected  woman 
is  the  only  one  that  is  really  worth  while.  The  com- 
fortable fortune  she  has  now  honestly  accumulated 
has  proved  that  it  is  not  true  that  "once  a  thief 
always  a  thief." 

The  actual  happenings  in  her  career  have  been 
more  extraordinary  than  the  imagination  of  any 
novelist  has  dreamed;  more  surprising  than  any 
scene  on  the  stage. 

Yet  nearly  every  one  of  those  whose  exploits  she 
has  recounted  here  is  now  an  outcast,  has  served  a 
good  share  of  life  in  prison,  is  in  poverty,  or  has 
died  poor.  Surely,  as  she  has  asserted  again  and 
again — and  hopes  to  abundantly  prove — CRIMjlI 
DOES  NOT  PAY. 

This  great  truth  forced  itself  upon  her  after 
many,  many  years  of  profitless  life  in  the  Under- 
world.   And  her  own  life  experience  and  her  pres- 


10  INTRODUCTION 

ent  fortune  of  half  a  million  dollars,  all  honestly  ac- 
quired, have  demonstrated  that  half  the  industry 
and  ability  that  great  criminals  expend  will  return 
them  richer  and  more  enduring  success  in  honest 
fields  of  endeavor. 


SOPHIE    LYONS 

QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS 

CHAPTER   I 

HOW   I   BEGAN    MY   CAREER    OF   CRIME 

I  was  not  quite  six  years  old  when  I  stole  my 
first  pocketbook.  I  was  very  happy  because  I  was 
petted  and  rewarded;  my  wretched  stepmother 
patted  my  curly  head,  gave  me  a  bag  of  candy,  and 
said  I  was  a  "good  girl." 

My  stepmother  was  a  thief.  My  good  father 
never  knew  this.  He  went  to  the  war  at  President 
Lincoln's  c&ll  for  troops  and  left  me  with  his  second 
wife,  my  stepmother. 

Scarcely  had  my  father 's  regiment  left  New  York 
than  my  stepmother  began  to  busy  herself  with  my 
education — not  for  a  useful  career,  but  for  a  career 
of  crime.  Patiently  she  instructed  me,  beginning 
with  the  very  rudiments  of  thieving — how  to  help 
myself  to  things  that  lay  unprotected  in  candy  shops, 
drug  stores  and  grocery  stores.  I  was  made  to 
practice  at  home  until  my  childish  fingers  had  ac- 
quired considerable  dexterity. 

Finally,  I  was  told  that  money  was  the  really  valu- 

11 


12  SOPHIE  LYONS 

able  thing  to  possess,  and  that  the  successful  men 
and  women  were  those  who  could  take  pocketbooks. 
With  my  stepmother  as  the  model  to  practice  on  I 
was  taught  how  to  open  shopping  bags,  feel  out  the 
loose  money  or  the  pocketbook  and  get  it  into  my  lit- 
tle hands  without  attracting  the  attention  of  my  vic- 
tims. In  those  days  leather  bags  were  not  common 
— most  women  carried  cloth  or  knitted  shopping 
bags.  I  was  provided  with  a  very  sharp  little  knife 
and  was  carefully  instructed  how  to  slit  open  the 
bags  so  that  I  could  get  my  fingers  in. 

And  at  last,  when  I  had  arrived  at  a  sufficient  de- 
gree of  proficiency,  I  was  taken  out  by  my  step- 
mother  and  we  traveled  over  into  New  York's  shop- 
ping district.  I  was  sent  into  a  store  and  soon  came 
out  with  a  pocketbook — my  stepmother  petted  me 
and  rewarded  me. 


ARRESTED  FOR   PICKING   POCKETS 

That  was  the  beginning  of  my  career  as  a  pro- 
fessional criminal.  I  did  not  know  it  was  wrong 
to  steal ;  nobody  ever  taught  me  that.  What  I  was 
told  was  wrong,  and  what  I  was  punished  for  was 
when  I  came  home  with  only  one  pocketbook  instead 
of  many. 

All  during  my  early  childhood  I  did  little  but 
steal,  and  was  never  sent  to  school.  I  did  not  learn 
to  read  or  write  until  I  was  twenty-five  years  old. 
If  my  stepmother  brought  me  to  a  place  where  many 
persons  congregated  and  I  was  slow  in  getting  pock- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  13 

etbooks  and  other  articles,  she  would  stick  a  pin 
into  my  arm  to  remind  me  that  I  must  be  more  in- 
dustrious. If  a  pin  was  not  convenient  she  would 
step  on  my  toes  or  pinch  me  when  occasion  made  her 
think  I  was  in  need  of  some  such  stimulant. 

One  time  we  went  over  to  Hoboken  to  a  place 
where  a  merry-go-round  was  operating,  and  my  step- 
mother sent  me  into  the  crowds  to  take  pocketbooks 
and  anything  else  I  could  put  my  hands  on.  A  de- 
tective saw  me  take  a  woman's  pocketbook  and  he 
carried  me  off  to  jail  in  his  arms,  my  stepmother  dis- 
appearing in  the  crowd.  I  remained  in  the  Hoboken 
jail  several  days  and  was  very  happy  there,  for  the 
policemen  used  to  give  me  candy  and  let  me  play 
around  the  place,  and  did  not  beat  me,  as  my  step- 
mother used  to  do.  A  strange  woman  came  and 
took  me  home,  for  my  absence  was  felt  because  of 
the  loss  of  the  money  I  used  to  bring  home  every 
night.  I  was  arrested  very  often  when  a  small 
girl,  but  usually  got  out  after  a  few  days,  as  my  step- 
mother Jaiew  how  to  bring  influence  to  bear  in  my 
favor.  One  time  I  was  sent  to  Randall's  Island  and 
used  to  play  with  the  daughters  of  the  assistant 
superintendent,  whose  name  was  Jones.  The  little 
girls  learned  from  their  father  that  I  was  a  thief, 
and  they  used  to  sympathize  with  me  and  make 
things  pleasant,  knowing  that  it  was  not  my  fault, 
but  the  fault  of  my  stepmother,  who  forced  me  to 
do  wrong. 


14  SOPHIE  LYONS 

A  THIEF  FROM  THE  CRADLE 

I  did  most  of  my  stealing  when  a  little  girl  bj 
putting  my  hands  into  men's  and  women's  pockets, 
but  I  also  used  to  cut  a  hole  in  the  bags  carried  by 
women — and  then  insert  my  fingers  and  take  out 
the  money  or  other  things  I  found  there,  as  I  have 
already  mentioned.  Hardly  a  day  passed  when  I 
did  not  steal  a  considerable  sum  of  money,  and  many 
days  I  would  take  home  more  than  a  hundred  dol- 
lars. Sometimes  I  would  forget  my  work  and  be 
attracted  to  a  store  window  and  buy  a  doll  for  my- 
self to  pet.  When  I  went  home  to  my  house  and  sat 
down  on  the  steps  to  cuddle  my  doll  my  stepmother 
or  my  brother  would  come  out  and  catch  me  up  and 
give  me  a  good  many  hard  knocks  for  neglecting 
my  duty — and  the  only  duty  I  knew  in  those  days 
was  to  steal,  and  never  stop  stealing. 

More  than  once  when  I  would  dread  going  home  I 
would  have  myself  arrested  by  stealing  so  a  police- 
man could  see  me  do  it.  But  it  didn  't  help  me  much, 
for  my  stepmother  never  failed  to  get  me  out  of  jail 
within  a  few  days  after  my  arrest.  It  seemed  so 
natural  for  mc  to  steal  that  one  time  when  I  was 
arrested  the  policeman  asked  me  what  I  was  doing, 
and  I  said  frankly,  "Picking  pockets."  He  asked 
me  how  many  I  got,  and  I  said,  "I  don't  know;  J 
gave  them  all  to  my  mama. ' ' 

Every  day  I  would  wear  a  different  kind  of  dress 
so  as  not  to  attract  attention,  in  case  anybody  who 
saw  me  steal  something  the  day  before  happened  to 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  15 

be  around.  My  stepmother  was  wise  enough  to  dis- 
guise me  in  this  way,  and  it  enabled  me  to  keep 
working  for  a  long  time  in  the  same  place.  My 
stepmother  would  take  me  into  the  department 
stores  and  wait  outside  for  me.  If  I  came  out  with 
enough  money  to  satisfy  her  she  would  say  nothing, 
ibut  march  me  off  home  or  to  another  store  for 
more  money,  but  if  I  came  out  with  less  than  she 
expected,  then  I  would  get  the  pin  pricks  or  pinches, 
and  be  made  to  feel  that  I  had  done  something 
wrong  in  not  working  harder  and  stealing  more. 

I  was,  indeed,  as  one  chief  of  police  once  said,  "A 
thief  from  the  cradle.' '  Surrounding  my  childhood 
and  youth  there  was  not  one  wholesome  or  worthy 
influence.  My  friends  and  companions  were  always 
criminals,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  in  my  early 
womanhood  I  should  have  fallen  in  love  with  a  bank 
burglar — Ned  Lyons. 

Following  this  romance  came  motherhood  and  an 
awakening  within  me  of  at  least  one  worthy  resolve 
— that,  whatever  had  been  my  career,  I  certainly 
would  see  that  my  children  were  given  the  benefit 
of  a  tender  mother  love,  which  I  had  never  had,  and 
that  my  little  ones  should  be  surrounded  with  every 
pure  and  wholesome  influence. 

The  first  few  years  of  my  married  life  were  di- 
vided between  my  little  ones  and  the  necessary  ex- 
actions which  my  career  imposed  on  me.  Ned  Ly- 
ons, my  husband,  was  a  member  of  the  boldest  ana 
busiest  group  of  bank  robbers  in  the  world.  Here 
and  there,  all  over  the  Eastern  States,  we  went  0:1 


16  SOPHIE  LYONS 

expeditions,  forcing  the  vaults  of  the  biggest  and 
richest  banks  in  the  country.  We  had  money  in 
plenty,  but  we  spent  money  foolishly.  When  we 
crept  out  of  the  vaults  of  the  great  Manhattan  Bank 
in  the  early  morning  hours  of  the  night  of  that  fa-f 
mous  robbery,  we  had  nearly  $3,000,000  in  money,' 
bonds  and  securities.  And  from  the  Northampton 
Bank  we  took  $200,000,  if  I  remember  correctly. 

But  we  had  our  troubles.  My  husband,  Ned  Ly- 
ons, was  a  desperate  scoundrel,  and  was  constantly 
in  difficulties.  My  desire  was  to  be  with  my  little 
ones,  but  the  gang  of  burglars  with  whom  I  was  as- 
sociated had  learned  to  make  me  useful,  and  they  in- 
sisted on  my  accompanying  them  on  their  expedi- 
tions. I  will  explain  fully  in  following  chapters  just 
what  my  part  was  in  many  of  their  various  exploits. 

Ned  Lyons  was  hungry  for  money — money,  more 
money — and  the  desperate  risks  he  took  and  his  con- 
tinual activity  took  me  away  from  the  children  much 
of  the  time. 


MY  ESCAPE  FROM  SING  SING 

Always  there  was  something  going  on,  and  I  had 
rery  little  peace.  Early  one  winter  Ned  Lyons,  in 
connection  with  Jimmy  Hope,  George  Bliss,  Ira 
Kingsland  and  others,  blew  open  the  safe  of  the 
Waterford,  New  York,  Bank,  and  secured  $150,000. 
Lyons  and  two  others  were  caught,  convicted  and 
sent  to  Sing  Sing  Prison. 

It  was  not  long  before  I  myself  was  captured,  con- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  17 

victed  and  also  sent  to  Sing  Sing  for  five  years.  But 
my  husband  managed  to  escape  from  the  prison  one 
December  afternoon,  and  he  lost  no  time  in  arrang- 
ing for  my  escape  from  the  women's  section  of  the 
prison,  which  was  a  separate  building  just  across 
the  road  from  the  main  prison. 

I  was  all  ready,  of  course,  and  when  my  husbam 
drove  up  in  a  sleigh,  wonderfully  well  disguised, 
wearing  a  handsome  fur  coat,  and  carrying  a  wom- 
an's fur  coat  on  his  arm,  I  made  my  escape  an( 
joined  him.  I  will  tell  the  details  of  how  my  hus 
band  and  I  got  out  of  Sing  Sing  in  a  subsequen 
article. 

We  both  wTent  into  hiding  and  made  our  way  tb 
Canada,  where  Ned,  being  short  of  funds,  broke  into 
a  pawnbroker's  safe  and  helped  himself  to  $20,000 
in  money  and  diamonds.  With  these  funds  in  our 
pockets  we  returned  to  New  York,  and  I  kept  in  hid- 
ing as  well  as  I  could  until  my  husband,  with  George 
Mason  and  others,  robbed  the  bank  at  Wellsboro, 
Pennsylvania.  Shortly  afterward  my  husband  was 
arrested  while  engaged  on  a  job  at  Riverhead,  L.  L, 
and  $13,000  worth  of  railroad  bonds  were  taken 
from  his  pockets. 

My  husband  could  not  let  drink  alone,  and  on» 
day  he  had  a  street  fight  with  the  notorious  Jimm; 
Haggerty,  a  burglar,  who  was  afterward  killed  b 
"Reddy  the  Blacksmith"  in  a  saloon  fight  on  Hous- 
ton Street  and  Broadway.     During  the  fight  be- 
tween Haggerty  and  Ned  Lyons  Haggerty  managed 
to  bite  off  the  greater  portion  of  my  husband's  left 


18  SOPHIE  LYONS 

ear.  This  was  a  great  misfortune  to  him  as  it  served 

as  a  means  of  identification  ever  after.    On  another 

occasion,  in  a  drunken  dispute,  Ned  Lyons  was  shot 

i  at  the  Star  and  Garter  saloon  on  Sixth  Avenue  by 

(  "Ham"  Brock,  a  Boston  character,  who  fired  two 

;  shots,  one  striking  Lyons  in  the  jaw  and  the  other 

in  the  body. 

My  husband  soon  had  the  bad  luck  to  be  caught 
in  the  act  of  breaking  into  a  jewelry  store  in  South 
Windham,  Conn.  As  soon  as  he  knew  he  was  dis- 
covered, my  husband  tried  to  make  his  escape,  and 
the  police  shot  him  as  he  ran,  putting  one  bullet 
hole  through  his  .body  and  imbedding  another  ball 
in  his  back. 

He  was  also  caught  in  the  burglary  of  a  post- 
office  at  Palmer,  Massachusetts,  where  they  took  the 
safe  out  of  the  store,  carried  it  a  short  distance  out 
of  the  village,  broke  it  open,  and  took  the  valuables. 
As  I  have  already  said,  the  men  had  found  me  very 
helpful  and  insisted  on  my  accompanying  them  on 
most  of  their  expeditions.  Always,  if  an  arrest  was 
made,  I  was  relied  upon  to  get  them  out  of  trouble. 
This  took  time,  money,  and  resourcefulness,  and 
kept  me  away  from  my  little  ones  against  my  will. 
During  this  time  my  children  were  approaching 
an  age  when  it  would  no  longer  do  to  have  them  in 
our  home.  Our  unexplained  absences,  our  mid- 
night departures,  our  hurried  return  in  the  early 
horning  hours  with  masks,  burglars'  tools,  and 
latchels  full  of  stolen  valuables  would  arouse  curios- 
fcy  in  their  little  minds.    One  thing  I  had  sworn  to 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAES  19 

do — to  safeguard  my  little  ones  from  such  wretched 
influences  as  had  surrounded  my  childhood.  With 
this  in  view  I  sent  my  little  boy  and  my  little  girl 
to  schools  where  I  felt  sure  of  kind  treatment  and 
a  religious  atmosphere.  And  I  paid  handsomely  to 
make  sure  that  they  would  receive  every  care  and 
consideration. 

I  SEE  WHY  CRIME  DOES  NOT  PAY 

I  had  scarcely  gotten  the  children  well  placed  in 
excellent  schools  in  Canada  when  my  husband  was 
caught  in  one  of  his  robberies.  I  busied  myself 
with  lawyers  and  spent  all  the  money  we  had  on 
hand,  to  no  avail,  and  he  was  given  a  long  prison 
sentence.  Just  at  this  unfortunate  moment  I  was 
myself  arrested  in  New  York  and  given  a  six  months' 
term  of  imprisonment. 

On  my  account  I  did  not  care — but  what  would 
become  of  my  children?  My  sources  of  income  had 
been  brought  to  a  sudden  stop.  I  had  no  money 
to  send  to  pay  my  children's  expenses.  Then,  for 
the  first  time,  I  felt  the  full  horror  of  a  criminal's 
life.  I  resolved  for  my  children's  sake  to  find  a  way 
to  support  them  honestly.  I  realized  the  full  truth 
that  crime  does  not  pay. 

As  I  went  on  day  after  day  serving  my  term  in 
prison  my  thoughts  were  always  about  my  little 
ones.  The  frightful  recollections  of  my  own  child- 
hood had  developed  in  me  an  abnormal  mother  love. 
At  last  I  resolved  to  write  to  the  institutions  where 
my  boy  and  girl  were  located  and  explain  that  I 


20  SOPHIE  LYONS 

was  unavoidably  detained  and  out  of  funds,  but 
promising  to  generously  repay  them  for  continuing 
to  care  for  my  children. 

But  I  was  too  late.  The  newspapers  had  printed 
an  account  of  my  arrest,  and  when  it  reached  the 
ears  of  the  convent  and  college  authorities  where 
my  boy  and  girl  were  stopping  it  filled  them  with 
indignation  to  think  that  a  professional  thief  had 
the  audacity  to  place  her  children  under  their  care. 
So  they  immediately  took  steps  to  get  rid  of  the 
innocent  youngsters,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  I  had 
paid  far  in  advance  for  their  board  and  tuition. 
The  boy  was  shipped  off  in  haste  to  the  poorhouse, 
and  my  dear  little  girl  was  sent  to  a  public  orphan- 
age, from  which  she  was  adopted  by  a  man  named 
Doyle,  who  was  a  customs  inspector  in  Canada  at 
the  time. 

"When  my  six  months  were  up  my  first  thoughts 
were  of  my  children,  and  I  started  off  to  visit  them, 
thinking,  of  course,  that  they  were  still  in  the  insti- 
tutions where  I  had  placed  them.  I  called  at  the 
convent,  and  when  they  saw  me  coming  one  of  the 
sisters  locked  the  door  in  my  face.  I  was  astounded 
at  this,  but  determined  to  know  what  it  meant.  As 
my  repeated  knocks  did  not  open  the  door,  I  resorted 
to  a  more  drastic  method  and  began  to  kick  on  the 
panels  quite  vigorously.  The  inmates  of  the  con- 
vent became  alarmed  at  my  persistence  and  feared 
that  the  door  would  be  broken  open,  so  they  thought 
it  best  to  open  and  let  me  in.    I  then  demanded  to 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  21 

know  the  cause  of  their  peculiar  conduct,  and  one 
of  them  spoke  up,  saying: 

"You  are  a  thief,  and  we  do  not  want  you  here." 

"Oh,  is  that  it!"  I  replied.  "Well,  where  is  my 
little  girl?    I  want  to  see  her." 

"Your  child  has  been  placed  in  a  respectable 
family,  and  you  will  not  be  permitted  to  see  her," 
answered  the  sister. 

Then  my  blood  began  to  boil  with  fury,  and  I  de- 
manded to  know  why  they  had  sent  my  girl  away 
without  letting  me  know,  especially  as  I  had  given 
them  considerable  money,  and  they  knew  all  her 
expenses  would  be  paid.  But  she  refused  to  give 
me  any  satisfaction.  In  desperation  I  sprang  at 
her.  She  screamed  and  called  for  help.  The  mother 
superior  then  made  her  appearance  and,  dismayed 
at  the  sight  of  the  determination  I  had  displayed, 
she  reluctantly  gave  me  the  address  of  the  man 
who  had  my  little  girl 

I  did  not  have  a  dollar  with  me  at  the  time,  but 
started  off  to  walk  to  Mr.  Doyle 's  house,  which  was 
some  distance  in  the  country.  After  a  few  hours' 
walking  I  met  a  man  driving  by  in  a  buggy,  and 
he  stopped  and  offered  me  a  ride.  I,  of  course,  ac- 
cepted his  invitation  and  got  into  the  buggy.  He 
asked  me  where  I  was  going,  and  I  said  I  was  search* 
Ing  for  a  man  named  Doyle.  He  wanted  my  name 
and  the  nature  of  my  business,  but  I  said  that  in- 
formation would  be  given  to  Mr.  Doyle  himself,  and 
nobody  else.  He  then  said  his  name  was  Doyle,  and 
asked  me  my  name,  and  I  told  him  I  was  Sophie 


22  SOPHIE  LYONS 

Lyons.  As  soon  as  lie  heard  this  he  stopped  the 
horse  and  ordered  me  out  of  the  buggy,  and  shouted : 
"You  are  a  very  bad  woman.  I  have  your  little 
girl.  I'm  going  to  keep  her.  You  are  not  a  fit 
mother,  and  should  be  kept  in  jail,  where  you  be- 
long. ' ' 

FOE    MY    CHILDREN'S    SAKE 

1 1  We  will  not  discuss  that  here, ' '  I  replied.  ' i  What 
I  want  now  is  to  see  my  little  girl,  and  I  wish  you 
would  drive  me  to  your  house." 

"You  shall  never  see  your  child,  and  you  had 
better  not  come  near  my  house,"  he  cried  as  he 
whipped  up  his  horse  and  was  soon  out  of  sight, 
leaving  me  alone  on  the  road. 

I  continued  my  walk,  however,  and  shortly  after- 
ward reached  the  Doyle  house  and  stood  outside 
the  gate,  while  Doyle,  with  his  two  sons  and  two 
hired  men  and  a  dog,  watched  me  from  the  piazza. 
I  stood  there  a  few  moments,  and  then  Doyle  came 
out  and  asked  me  what  I  was  doing  there,  and  de- 
manded that  I  leave  the  neighborhood  at  once.  He 
said:    "This  is  my  home,  and  you  must  go  away." 

"It  may  be  your  home,  Mr.  Doyle,"  I  answered, 
"but  my  child  is  in  there,  and  I  am  going  to  wait 
here  until  I  see  her." 

"I  have  adopted  your  girl,"  he  said,  "and  she 
will  be  better  off  here  than  with  you. ' ' 

"It  takes  two  to  make  a  bargain,"  I  said,  "and 
you  did  not  get  my  consent  when  you  adopted  the 
girl." 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAES  23 

Realizing  that  it  was  useless  to  try  to  persuade 
me,  he  went  inside  and  left  me  at  the  gate,  where  I 
stood  waiting  developments.  After  another  long 
wait  Doyle  came  ont  again  and  said: 

"Are  you  still  there?  What  do  you  want?  Yon 
know  very  well  it  is  better  for  the  girl  that  she  re* 
main  with  us,  and  not  with  a  thief  like  you.  I  will 
take  good  care  of  her,  but  you  shall  not  see  her." 

"I  know  my  rights/ '  I  replied,  "and  I  will  hire 
a  lawyer  and  compel  the  convent  authorities  to 
show  me  their  books  and  explain  what  they  have 
done  with  the  thousands  of  dollars  I  left  with  them 
to  care  for  my  girl.  I  will  make  it  hot  for  you  and 
for  them  before  I  finish.' ' 

This  threat  must  have  frightened  him  a  little,  for 
he  then  asked  me  if  I  had  had  anything  to  eat  that 
day,  and  I  told  him  I  had  not.  Then  he  invited  me 
into  the  house  to  get  some  food,  and  said  he  would 
hitch  up  the  buggy  and  drive  me  back  to  town.  I 
said: 


a  mother's  love  wins  at  last 


1 '  No,  you  will  not  drive  me  back  to  town.  I  will 
not  go  back  without  my  girl." 

"Now,  be  reasonable,  Mrs.  Lyons,"  he  said. 
"Your  little  girl  is  happy  here,  and  she  does  not 
like  you  because  you  are  a  bad  woman. ' ' 

"Well,"  I  answered,  "if  she  does  not  like  her 
mother  then  you  have  made  her  feel  that  way ;  you 
have  taught  her  to  dislike  me." 


24  SOPHIE  LYONS 

After  a  little  more  parleying  he  went  int#  the 
house  and  sent  out  my  little  girl  to  talk  to  me. 

"My  darling/ '  I  said,  " don't  you  want  to  kiss 
your  own  mother?" 

"No,"  she  said;  "I  do  not  like  you,  because  you 
kre  a  thief.    You  are  not  my  mother  at  all." 

My  eyes  filled  with  tears  at  this,  and  with  sobs  in 
my  voice  I  asked  her  if  she  did  not  remember  the 
little  prayers  I  had  taught  her  and  the  many  happy 
hours  we  had  spent  together.    The  little  dear  said: 

1  l  Yes,  I  remember  the  prayers,  but  I  do  not  want 
to  see  you.    You  are  a  thief!    Go  away,  please!" 

Those  words  cut  me  to  the  heart — from  my  own 
)recious  daughter.  And  again  I  was  made  to  real- 
ze  that  crime  does  not  pay ! 

I  lost  no  time  in  setting  matters  in  motion  which 
very  soon  brought  back  to  my  arms  my  daughter. 
Meanwhile  I  hastened  to  the  academy  where  my 
little  boy  had  been  left  and  demanded  to  see  him. 
When  my  boy  was  brought  out  to  me  he  was  in  a 
disgraceful  condition,  he  seemed  to  have  been  ut- 
terly neglected,  his  clothing  was  ragged  and  his 
face  as  dirty  as  a  chimney  sweep's.  I  was  shocked 
at  this  and  demanded  an  explanation  from  the  pro- 
fessor who  had  charge  of  the  institution.  He  turned 
on  me  angrily,  and  said: 

"You  have  an  amazing  assurance  to  place  your 

.good-for-nothing  brat  among  honest  children.    How 

dare  you  give  us  an  assumed  name  and  impose  on 

us  in  this  manner?     Get  your  brat  out  of  here  at 

once,  for  if  honest  parents  knew  your  character 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  25 

they  would  take  their  children  out  of  the  school 
without  delay.' * 

"A  false  name,  is  it?"  I  said  to  the  proud  pro- 
fessor. "What  name  did  you  give  when  you  were 
caught  in  a  disreputable  house?" 

This  remark  startled  him.  He  changed  his  man- 
ner at  once  and  implored  me  to  speak  lower  and 
not  let  anybody  know  what  I  said.  I  had  recog- 
nized this  professor  as  a  man  who  had  visited  De- 
troit a  year  or  so  before  and  had  been  caught  in 
a  disreputable  resort  by  the  police  on  one  of  their 
raids.  The  professor,  of  course,  did  not  imagine 
that  anybody  in  Detroit  had  known  him,  and  so  he 
thought  it  perfectly  safe  to  assume  the  role  of  su- 
perior virtue.  He  apologized  for  his  neglect  of  my 
child  and  begged  me  to  forget  the  abuse  he  had 
heaped  upon  me.  I  congratulated  myself  that  the 
child  had  not  heard  his  remarks  to  me,  and  I  de- 
parted with  my  boy. 

But  my  joy  over  the  fact  that  my  little  one  had 
not  had  his  mother's  wickedness  revealed  to  him 
was  of  short  duration.  I  had  brought  the  child  to 
Detroit,  where  1  had  begun  preparations  to  make  a 
permanent  home,  honestly,  1  hoped.  Several  per- 
sons there  owed  me  money,  and  among  them  a  bar- 
ber I  had  befriended.  I  tried  persistently  to  get 
•from  him  what  he  owed  me,  but  without  success. 

When  I  returned  home  after  a  little  trip  I  was 
compelled  to  make  to  New  York,  my  boy  came  up 
to  me,  crying,  and  said; 


26  SOPHIE  LYONS 

" Mamma,  I  don't  want  to  live  around  here  any 
more. ' ' 

I  wondered  what  conld  have  caused  the  poor  boy 
to  speak  that  way,  so  I  patted  him  on  the  back  and 
said: 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter,  dearie!  Don't  yc\V 
like  this  street  any  more?" 

1  i  Mamma, ' '  he  sobbed,  i  ' 1  heard  something  about 
you  which  makes  me  feel  awful  bad,  but  I  know  it 
isn't  true,  is  it,  mamma?" 

"Tell  me,  child,  what  is  it?" 

"Well,"  he  answered,  "Mr.  Wilson,  the  barber, 
asked  me  the  day  after  you  left  to  go  downtown  on 
a  trip  with  him,  and  I  went  along.  He  took  me  into 
a  large  building  which  I  heard  was  the  police  sta- 
tion. He  asked  a  man  to  let  him  see  some  pictures, 
and  when  he  got  the  pictures  he  showed  me  one  of 
them  which  he  said  was  you;  and  he  said  you  were 
a  thief  and  the  police  had  to  keep  your  picture  so 
they  could  find  you  when  you  stole  things,"  and 
then  the  boy  began  to  sob  as  if  his  poor  heart  would 
break. 

The  man  had  taken  my  boy  down  to  the  police 
station  and  had  shown  him  my  picture  in  the  rogues ' 
gallery.  And  again  the  realization  was  forced  in 
on  me  by  the  reproachful  gaze  of  my  boy  that  crime 
does  not  pay. 

For  a  time  I  managed  to  get  along  fairly  well 
and  was  able  by  honest  efforts  to  have  a  little  home 
and  to  have  my  children  with  me.  But  my  old 
career  came  up  to  haunt  me  and  many  refused  to 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  27 

have  business  dealings  with  me  when  they  were 
informed  of  my  earlier  life.  At  last  I  was  at  the 
end  of  my  resources — should  I  lose  my  little  home 
and  my  children,  or  should  I  go  back  once  more, 
just  once  more  to  my  old  life?" 

The  struggle  between  my  two  impulses  was  finally 
settled  by  a  visit  from  two  of  my  old  acquaintances 
of  the  underworld — Tom  Bigelow  and  Johnny 
Meaney.  They  came  to  ask  my  help  in  a  promising 
job  which  they  felt  sure  would  be  a  success  if  they 
could  enlist  my  services — there  would  be  at  least 
$50,000  for  me,  they  said. 

"Big  Tom"  Bigelow  was  an  old-time  professional 
bank  burglar,  who  had  learned  his  business  under 
such  leaders  as  Jimmy  Hope  and  Langdon  W. 
Moore — men  who  had  never  found  any  bank  or  any 
vault  too  much  for  their  skill.  Little  Johnny 
Meaney  was  one  of  the  cleverest l '  bank  sneaks ' '  that 
ever  lived.  He  would  perform  the  most  amazing 
feats  in  getting  behind  bank  counters  and  walking 
off  with  large  bundles  of  money.  He  was  so  quick 
and  noiseless  in  his  work  that  he  would  never  have 
been  arrested  but  for  his  fondness  for  women  ami 
drink.  When  under  the  influence  of  champagne  he 
would  confide  in  s.ome  strange  woman  he  had  met 
only  a  few  days  before,  and  in  order  to  get  the  re- 
ward some  of  the  women  would  tell  the  police  where 
to  find  Johnny. 

He  had  granulated  eyelids,  and  his  inflamed  eyes 
were  so  conspicuous  that  he  could  always  be  recog- 
nized easily.    He  was  married  and  had  several  chiJ- 


28  SOPHIE  LYONS 

dren.  His  wife  never  knew  the  kind  of  work  he  did 
He  had  a  quarrelsome  temper,  and  ahrays  got  into 
some  dispute  with  every  woman  he  met.,  and  usually 
left  them  feeling  unfavorably  disposed  toward  him. 
Many  of  the  girls  who  betrayed  him  did  so  more 
ihrough  resentment  than  anything  else.  I  mention 
f  these  things  to  show  how  personal  peculiarities  and 
temperament  are  often  serious  menaces  to  criminals. 
Meaney's  specialty  was  day  work.  He  would 
walk  into  a  bank  during  business  hours  and  sneak 
behind  the  counter  and  pick  up  everything  he  could 
lay  his  hands  on.  He  never  did  any  night  work,  and 
knew  nothing  about  safe  blowing.  As  a  rule,  a 
man  who  makes  a  specialty  of  night  work,  with  dark 
lantern,  mask,  and  jimmy,  will  not  attempt  any  sneak 
work,  and  the  first-class  sneak  will  not  undertake 
night  work.  The  night  robber  is  guided  by  the 
moon,  and  oftentimes  a  job  will  be  called  off  be- 
cause the  cracksmen  think  the  moon  is  not  right  for 
the  work.  The  darker  the  night  the  better.  But 
the  bank  sneak  prefers  daylight  of  the  brightest 
kind.  He  often  works  right  under  the  eyes  of  a 
room  full  of  clerks,  and  the  bigger  the  crowd  in  the 
streets  the  easier  for  him  to  make  his  escape  and 
lose  himself  among  them. 

HOW  I  PLANNED  A  BANK  ROBBERY 

It  was  a  "bank  Sneak'*  job  they  had  in  mind. 
The  bank  was  in  a  small  New  Jersey  city,  near 
enough  to  New  York  so  that  we  could  lose  ourselves 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  29 

in  our  old  haunts  on  the  East  Side  before  the  de- 
tectives should  get  hot  on  our  trail. 

I  went  to  the  town  in  advance  of  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  party  and  rented  a  small  cottage,  posing 
as  a  widow  who  planned  to  settle  down  there  and 
live  on  the  income  of  her  husband's  insurance 
money. 

Soon  after  settling  in  my  new  quarters,  I  visited 
the  bank  and  opened  a  small  account.  I  found  the 
cashier  a  man  who  fitted  in  perfectly  with  our  dis- 
honest designs.  He  must  have  been  nearly  seventy 
years  old  and  he  could  not  hear  or  see  so  well  as  he 
should  for  the  security  of  the  funds  in  his  charge. 

I  saw  right  away  that  he  was  very  susceptible 
to  pretty  women  and  was  quite  willing  to  drop  his 
work  at  any  time  for  a  half  hour's  chat  with  such  a 
comely  widow  as  I  looked  to  be.  My  task  was  to 
look  the  ground  over,  find  out  where  the  cash  was 
kept,  and  how  and  when  access  to  it  could  best  be 
secured.  It  was  the  simplest  thing  in  the  world  to 
get  these  facts  after  I  had  worked  my  way  into 
the  cashier's  good  graces. 

I  quickly  saw  that  the  most  favorable  time  for 
the  robbery  was  between  the  hours  of  12  and  1 
o'clock,  when  the  other  two  men  in  the  bank  went 
to  their  homes  for  lunch,  leaving  the  institution  in 
the  charge  of  the  old  cashier.  At  that  time  the* 
door  of  the  vault  was  open,  and  the  bundles  of  cur-\ 
rency  and  securities  Irj  there  in  full  view,  ready  for 
us  to  take  away. 

It  would  be  an  easy  matter  for  Johnny  Meaney, 


30  SOPHIE  LYONS 

who  was  a  small,  wiry  fellow,  light  and  quiet  on  his 
feet  as  a  cat,  to  slip  in  through  a  side  entrance 
while  I  held  the  cashier's  attention  with  one  of  my 
harmless  flirtations  and  gain  access  to  the  vault 
through  the  door  in  the  wire  cage,  which  was  almost 
invariably  left  unlocked.  Even  if  it  should  be 
locked  on  the  day  we  set  for  the  robbery,  it  would 
be  a  simple  matter  for  Johnny  to  get  inside  with 
the  aid  of  one  of  his  skeleton  keys. 

Accordingly  I  sent  word  to  my  two  comrades  that 
the  coast  was  clear  and  to  come  on  at  once.  They 
arrived  in  due  time  and,  after  looking  the  ground 
over,  confirmed  my  own  judgment  that  the  robbery 
was  an  easy  one  and  could  be  carried  out  with  littlo 
risk  according  to  the  plan  I  had  made. 

The  following  Tuesday  was  the  day  set,  because 
on  that  day,  as  I  had  found  out,  the  bank  generally 
had  a  large  amount  of  cash  on  hand.  The  time  fixed 
was  between  12  and  12 :30  o  'clock,  when  the  assistant 
cashier,  the  bookkeeper,  and  practically  all  the  rest 
of  the  town  were  at  their  noonday  meal. 

Everything  was  definitely  settled  unless  my  visit 
to  the  bank  on  Monday  should  reveal  some  unlooked- 
for  hitch. 

The  cashier  had  become  thoroughly  accustomed 
to  the  "pretty  widow V  habit  of  dropping  in  on 
him  every  day  at  the  noon  hour,  and  he  was  ex- 
ceedingly glad  to  see  me  when  I  entered  as  usual, 
Monday,  and  began  a  series  of  questions  about  some 
fictitious  investments  of  mine  in  the  West.  Alas! 
how  well  I  remember  how  that  vain  old  mau  en- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  31 

joyed  his  innocent  flirtation,  little  suspecting  that 
the  object  of  his  regard  was  there  only  to  make  sure 
that  nothing  had  happened  to  disarrange  the  plans 
for  to-morrow's  robbery. 


WHAK   DELAYED    OUR   PLANS 

Luckily  for  me  the  bookkeeper  was  just  starting 
for  lunch  when  T  took  my  accustomed  place  outside 
the  cashier's  window.  I  had  seen  the  door  through 
which  he  had  to  pass  to  get  from  inside  the  wire 
cage  to  the  outer  part  of  the  bank  opened  and  shut 
a  hundred  times  r  and  I  had  always  noted  with  satis- 
faction not  only  that  it  was  seldom  locked  but  also 
that  its  hinges  never  gave  even  the  slightest  squeak. 

But  at  this  moment  a  most  unexpected  thing  hap- 
pened. 

As  the  bookkeeper  turned  the  knob  of  the  wire- 
screen  door  and  opened  it  a  most  unearthly  scream 
came  from  the  iron  hinges. 

The  clerk  passed  on,  and  the  door  lazily  swung 
back  behind  him  with  another  piercing  screech  that 
filled  me  with  dismay. 

No  watch-dog  could  have  sounded  a  more  certain 
alarm  than  those  hinges.  My  heart  sank  as  I  real- 
ized how  impossible  it  would  be  for  Johnny  Meaney 
to  pass  in  and  out  i>f  that  creaking  door  without 
detection.  Bringing  my  conversation  to  a  hurried 
close,  I  went  to  tell  my  comrades  how  our  hopes 
had  been  dashed  by  the  unexpected  development  of 
a  squeak  in  those  both*?r«or»jy  hinges. 


32  SOPHIE  LYONS 

The  difficulty  seemed  insurmountable  until  Johnny 
Meaney,  always  a  quick-witted,  resourceful  thief, 
showed  us  a  way  out.  His  suggestion  was  that  the 
robbery  be  postponed  for  a  week  and  that  in  the 
meantime  we  call  in  the  aid  of  another  well-known 
bank  sneak  named  Bill  Taylor,  to  fix  those  refrac- 
tory hinges. 

This  seemed  the  only  possible  solution  of  the 
problem,  as  that  squeaking  had  to  be  stopped,  and 
it  was  not  safe  for  either  of  my  companions  to  at- 
tempt it.  Accordingly,  Meaney  went  back  to  New 
York  to  make  the  necessary  arrangements,  and  a 
few  days  later  Taylor  appeared  on  the  scene  as  the 
suave,  well  dressed  representative  of  the  company 
which  had  built  the  vault  for  this  bank. 

On  presentation  of  his  neatly  engraved  card,  Tay- 
lor was  readily  given  permission  to  inspect  the 
vault.  During  the  afternoon  he  spent  in  the  bank 
he  called  attention  to  the  squeaky  hinges  and  sug- 
gested that  he  apply  to  them  some  very  excellent 
machine  oil  he  had  with  him.  This  he  did  and  the 
door  moved  as  noiselessly  as  before. 

And  incidentally,  while  Taylor  was  masquerading 
as  the  traveling  agent  of  the  safe  company  and  had 
the  freedom  of  the  bank  that  afternoon  he  took  oc- 
casion to  fit  a  key  to  the  wire  door.  Not  that  Johnny) 
Meaney  could  not  attend  to  this  himself  in  case  he( 
found  the  door  locked,  but  Taylor  thought  he  might 
as  well  make  everything  as  smooth  as  possible  for 
"Meaney. 

Everything  was  now  in  shape,  and  we  decided  to 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLABS  33 

rob  the  bank  next  day.  Just  at  noon,  as  the  big 
(dock  on  the  Municipal  Building  was  striking  12,  I 
came  up  the  steps  of  the  bank  and  greeted  the  old 
cashier  with  my  customary  smile.  The  bookkeeper 
and  the  four  other  clerks  were  passing  out  of  the 
side  door  to  their  lunch.  Suddenly  I  spilled  out  of 
my  hand  right  in  front  of  the  cashier  a  handful  of 
large  coins  in  such  a  way  that  two  silver  dollars 
rolled  past  him  and  dropped  on  the  floor  inside  the 
wire  cage.  As  he  laboriously  stooped  to  pick  them 
up  I  strained  my  neck  and  eyes  to  examine  quickly 
everything  inside  the  cage  to  make  sure  that  all  the 
bank  clerks  had  gone  out — that  nobody  remained 
behind  the  wire  railing  except  the  aged  cashier. 

Moving  over  as  far  as  possible  to  one  side  of  tho 
cashier's  window,  I  drew  the  old  cashier's  attention 
to  a  photograph  of  a  little  child  in  a  locket.  This 
brought  the  back  of  his  head  toward  the  side  door 
of  the  bank.  As  he  leaned  his  face  down  to  see  it 
more  closely  I  caught  a  glimpse  out  of  the  corner 
of  my  eye  of  the  shadow-like  form  of  Johnny 
Mcaney. 

Noiselessly  he  had  come  in  through  the  side  door. 
.Mice  a  cat  he  crept  to  the  wire  door.  With  my  ears 
*  trained  for  the  faintest  alarm  from  those  treacher- 
ous hinges,  I  listened  as  I  kept  up  a  rapid  fire  con- 
versation to  hold  the  attention  of  the  aged  cashier. 

The  wire  door  swung  open  noiselessly;  Meaney 
was  crouching  low;  I  had  lost  my  view  of  him  as 
he  crept  toward  the  big  open  door  of  the  bank  vault. 

On  the  sidewalk,  pacing  slowly  up  and  down  in 


34  SOPHIE  LYONS 

front  of  the  side  door,  was  "Big  Tom"  Bigelow. 
He  was  the  "outside  man"  of  the  job  and,  although 
I  could  not  see  him,  I  knew  he  was  on  the  alert  to 
intercept  anybody  who  might  happen  in.  With 
some  excuse  he  must  stop  any  clerk  who  tried  to 
enter  through  the  side  door — I  myself  must  inter- 
cept any  clerk  who  might  chance  to  return  from 
lunch  and  enter  by  the  front  entrance. 

WE    GET   OUR   PLUNDER 

With  increasing  vivaciousness,  I  rattled  along  en- 
tertaining the  cashier.  In  a  few  moments  I  saw 
the  wire  door  gently  open  as  if  by  a  spirit  hand. 
Creeping  low  along  the  floor,  a  shadow  crossed  the 
little  corridor  to  the  outside  door;  noiselessly  it 
opened  and  closed — the  work  was  done! 

And  thus  this  job,  which  had  taken  us  weeks  to 
plan,  was  done  in  less  than  five  minutes  from  the 
time  I  entered  the  bank  until  Meaney  stole  out  of 
a  back  door  with  his  satchel  full  of  bank  notes  and 
securities.  Then  the  three  of  us  quickly  made  our 
way  by  separate  routes  to  New  York. 

The  loss  was  not  discovered  until  it  came  time 
to  close  the  vault  for  the  day,  and  we  thus  had 
nearly  three  hours'  start  of  the  police.  A  large 
reward  was  offered  and  numerous  detectives  en- 
gaged, but  no  one  was  ever  arrested  for  this  crime. 
I  am  just  vain  enough  to  think  that  the  old  cashier 
was  probably  very  reluctant  to  believe  his  pretty 
widow  had  a  share  in  the  robbery,  in  spite  of  her 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  35 

mysterious  disappearance  on  the  very  day  it  oc- 
curred. 

Our  plunder  amounted  to  $150,000,  of  which  $20,- 

000  was  cash  and  the  rest  good  negotiable  bonds. 
The  money  was  divided  and  I  undertook  the  mar- 
keting of  the  securities,  which  were  finally  disposed 
of  through  various  channels  for  $78,000,  or  about 
60  per  cent,  of  their  value. 

Those  squeaky  door  hinges  cost  Meaney,  Bigelow, 
and  myself  about  $6,000  apiece,  for  through  the 
addition  of  Taylor  to  our  party  we  had  to  divide  the 
spoils  among  four  persons  instead  of  three.  After 
paying  my  expenses,  my  share  of  these  ill-gotten 
gains  amounted  to  about  $20,000.  This  I  thought 
ample  to  provide  for  the  wants  of  my  children  until 

1  could  establish  myself  in  some  honorable  busi- 
ness, and  I  returned  to  Detroit  fully  determined 
never  again  to  risk,  as  I  had,  a  long  prison  term. 

But  my  good  resolutions  were  short  lived.  Two 
weeks  later  word  came  that  my  husband  was  in 
jail  for  complicity  in  an  attempted  bank  robbery 
which  had  been  nipped  in  the  bud  and  urgently 
needed  my  assistance.  It  took  several  thousand 
dollars  of  the  money  for  which  I  had  paid  so  dear 
to  secure  his  liberty,  and  the  remainder  soon  melted 
away  before  the  numerous  needs  of  my  little  brood 
and  my  husband's  unfortunate  gambling  propensi- 
ties. 

Here  I  was  again  just  where  I  was  before  the 
robbery  of  that  New  Jersey  bank.  My  money  was 
gone,  my  old  reputation  still  pursued  me,  nobody 


36  SOPHIE  LYONS 

would  trust  me;  "once  a  thief,  always  a  thief," 
they  said;  nobody  believed  in  my  sincere?  desire  to 
abandon  my  early  career  and  lead  an  honest  life. 

I  did  not  feel  vindictive  at  the  sneers  at  ray  prot- 
estations of  a  desire  to  earn  an  honest  living — L 
could  not  blame  anybody  for  doubting  my  sincerity. 
But  my  home  and  my  little  ones,  dearer  to  me  than 
life,  what  was  to  become  of  them?  Was  there  no 
way  to  escape  from  my  wretched  career?  If  ever 
a  woman  and  a  mother  realized  that  crime  does  not 
pay,  I  was  made  to  learn  that  truth. 

It  is  a  long  and  difficult  road — the  narrow  path 
that  leads  from  crime  to  honest  living.  I  have  trav- 
eled it,  thank  heaven !  but  it  was  hard,  it  was  slow — 
and  many  times  I  strayed  from  the  path. 

Some  of  my  companions  of  the  old  days  traveled 
that  road  with  me.  A  few,  a  very  few,  succeeded 
as  I  did  at  last.  Many  gave  it  up,  turned  back.  A 
thousand  episodes  of  my  career  and  of  their  mis- 
guided lives  all  illuminate  the  one  great  inevitable 
fact  that  crime  does  not  pay  I 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS     37 


CHAPTER  n 

THE  SECRET  OF  THE  STOLEN  GAINSBOROUGH — AND  TH1 
LESSON  OP  THE  CAREER  OF  RAYMOND,  THE  "PRINCl 
OF  SAFE  BLOWERS/ '  WHO  BUILT  A  MILLIONAIRE^ 
RESIDENCE  IN  A  FASHIONABLE  LONDON  SUBURB  AND 
KEPT  A  YACHT  WITH  A  CREW  OF  20  MEN  IN  THE 
MEDITERRANEAN 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  May  15,  several  years 
ago,  that  the  manager  of  Agnew's  great  art  gallery 
in  London  turned  the  key  in  the  lock  of  the  private 
gallery  to  show  an  art  patron  the  famous  "Gains- 
borough." His  amiable  smile  faded  from  his  lips 
as  he  came  face  to  face  with  an  empty  gilt  frame. 

The  great  $125,000  painting  had  been  cut  from 
its  frame. 

Who  stole  this  masterpiece?  How  was  it  stolen T 
Could  it  be  recovered! 

The  best  detectives  of  Europe  and  America  were 
asked  to  find  answers  to  these  questions.  They 
never  did.  I  will  answer  them  here  for  the  first 
time  to-day. 

The  man  who  cut  the  Gainsborough  from  its 
frame  was  a  millionaire,  he  was  an  associate  of 
J  mine,  he  was  a  bank  burglar.  Adam  Worth,  or 
Harry  Raymond,  as  he  was  known  to  his  friends, 
did  not  need  the  money  and  he  did  not  want  the 
painting — he  entered  that  London  art  gallery  at  3 
o'clock  in  the  morning  and  took  that  roll  of  canvas 


38  SOPHIE  LYONS 

out  under  his  arm  for  a  purpose  that  nobody  sus- 
pected.   I  will  explain  all  this  presently. 

I  have  said  that  Eaymond  was  a  millionaire,  and 
I  said  in  previous  chapters  that  crime  does  not 
pay — how  is  it  possible  to  reconcile  these  two  state- 
ments?   We  shall  see. 

Among  all  my  old  acquaintances  and  associates 
in  the  criminal  world,  perhaps  no  one  serves  better 
as  an  example  of  the  truth  that  crime  does  not  pay 
than  this  very  millionaire  burglar,  this  man  who 
had  earned  the  title  of  the  "Prince  of  Safe  Blow- 
ers." For  a  time  he  seemed  to  have  everything 
Ms  heart  could  desire — a  mansion,  servants,  liveried 
equipages,  a  yacht ;  and  it  all  crumbled  away  like  a 
house  of  cards,  vanished  like  the  wealth  of  Aladdin 
in  the  Arabian  Nights.  And  so  Eaymond,  most 
" successful' '  bank  robber  of  the  day,  lived  to  learn 
the  lesson  that  crime  does  not  pay. 

Raymond  was  a  Massachusetts  boy — bright,  wide 
awake,  but  headstrong.  Born  of  an  excellent  family 
and  well  educated,  he  formed  bad  habits  and  de- 
veloped a  passion  for  gambling. 

EAYMOND 's  FIKST  CRIMES 

Unable  to  earn  honestly  all  he  needed  to  gratify 
his  passion  for  gambling,  Raymond  soon  drifted 
into  the  companionship  of  some  professional  thieve ii 
he  had  met  in  the  army.  From  that  time  his  down . 
fall  was  rapid;  he  never  earned  another  honest 
dollar.    Like  myself  and  many  other  criminals  who 


HOW  RAYMOND  CUT  THE  FAMOUS    ' '  GAINSBOROUGH  "    OUT  OF 
ITS  FRAME, 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  39 

later  achieved  notoriety  in  broader  fields,  he  first 
tried  picking  pockets.  He  had  good  teachers  and 
he  was  an  apt  pupil.  His  long,  slender  fingers 
seemed  just  made  for  the  delicate  task  of  slipping 
watches  out  of  men's  pockets  and  purses  out  of 
women's  handbags.  Soon  he  had  plenty  of  money 
and  a  wide  reputation  for  his  cleverness  in  escap- 
ing arrest 

Aside  from  his  love  for  faro  and  roulette,  Ray- 
mond was  always  a  prudent,  thrifty  man.  In  those 
early  days  he  picked  pockets  so  skillfully  and  dis- 
posed of  his  booty  to  the  "fences"  so  shrewdly  that 
it  was  not  long  before  he  had  enough  capital  to 
finance  other  criminals.  The  first  manifestation  of 
the  executive  ability  which  was  one  day  to  make 
him  a  power  in  the  underworld  was  his  organization 
of  a  band  of  pickpockets.  Raymond's  word  was 
law  with  the  little  group  of  young  thieves  he  gath- 
ered around  him.  He  furnished  the  brains  to  keep 
them  out  of  trouble  and  the  cash  to  get  them  out 
if  by  chance  they  got  in.  Every  morning  they  met 
in  a  little  Canal  Street  restaurant  to  take  their 
orders  from  him — at  night  they  came  back  *o  hand 
him  a  liberal  share  of  the  day's  earnings. 

But  even  the  enormous  profits  of  this  syndicate 
of  pickpockets  were  not  enough  to  satisfy  Ray- 
mond's restless  ambition.  He  began  to  cast  en- 
vious eyes  at  men  like  my  husband  (Ned  Lyons), 
Big  Jim  Brady,  Dan  Noble,  Tom  Bigelow,  and  other 
bank  sneaks  and  burglars  whom  he  met  in  the  places 
where  criminals  gathered.     These  men  were  big, 


40  SOPHIE  LYONS 

strong,  good-looking  fellows.  Their  work  looked 
easy — it  was  certainly  exciting.  They  had  long 
intervals  of  leisure  and  were  always  well  supplied 
with  money.  "If  these  men  can  make  a  good  living 
robbing  banks,' '  thought  Eaymond,  "why  can't  I!" 
It  was  through  Eaymond 's  itching  to  get  into 
bank  work  that  I  first  met  him.  One  day  he  came 
into  a  restaurant  where  my  husband  and  I  were 
sitting,  and  Mr.  Lyons  introduced  him  to  me.  I 
myself  saw  little  in  him  to  impress  me,  but  when 
he  had  gone  my  husband  said:  "That  fellow  will 
be  a  great  thief  some  day." 

AMBITIOUS    TO    BE    A    BANK    BURGLAR 

It  was  hard  for  a  young  man  to  get  a  foothold 
with  an  organized  party  of  bank  robbers,  for  the 
more  experienced  men  were  reluctant  to  risk  their 
chances  of  success  by  taking  on  a  beginner. 

"No  doubt  you're  all  right,"  they  told  him,  "but 
you  can  see  yourself  that  we  can't  afford  to  have 
anybody  around  that  hasn't  had  experience  in  our 
line  of  business.  It's  too  risky  for  us,  and  it 
wouldn't  be  fair  to  you." 

"But  how  am  I  going  to  get  experience  if  some 
of  you  chaps  don't  give  me  a  chance?"  Eaymond 
replied;  but  still  he  got  no  encouragement  from 
my  husband  and  his  companions. 

"All  right,"  he  finally  said  one  day.  "I'll  show 
you  what  I  can  do — I  won't  be  asking  to  be  taken 
in  with  you;  you  will  be  asking  me." 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BUEGLARS  41 

So  Raymond,  in  order  to  get  experience,  cheer- 
fully made  up  his  mind  to  make  his  first  attempt  in 
that  line  alone.  He  broke  into  an  express  company's 
office  on  Liberty  Street  and  forced  open  a  safe  con- 
taining $30,000  in  gold.  The  inner  box,  however, 
in  which  the  money  was  kept,  proved  too  much  for 
Raymond's  limited  experience.  To  his  great  disJ 
gust,  daylight  came  before  he  was  able  to  get  it 
open. 

Tired  and  mad,  Raymond  trudged  home  in  the 
gray  of  the  morning,  dusty,  greasy,  and  with  his 
tools  under  his  arm.  The  newspapers  printed  the 
full  details  of  the  curious  failure  to  reach  the  funds 
in  the  express  company's  safe,  and  Ned  Lyons  and 
his  companions  guessed  very  quickly  whose  work 
it  was.  Meeting  Raymond  a  few  days  later,  they 
accused  him  of  having  done  the  bungling  job.  He 
admitted  that  the  joke  was  on  him,  and  they  all 
laughed  loudly  at  his  effort  to  get  some  experience. 

"  You're  all  right,"  said  Big  Jim  Brady.  "You've 
got  the  right  idea — that's  the  only  way  to  learn; 
keep  at  it  and  you  will  make  a  name  for  yourself 
some  day." 

His  next  undertaking  was  more  successful.  Prom 
the  safe  of  an  insurance  company  in  Cambridge, 
Mass.,  his  native  town,  he  took  $20,000  in  cash.' 
This  established  him  as  a  bank  burglar,  and  he 
soon  became  associated  with  a  gang  of  expert 
cracksmen,  including  Ike  Marsh,  Bob  Cochran,  and 
Charley  Bullard. 


42 


SOPHIE  LYONS 


BOBBING    THE    BOYLSTON    BANK 

Raymond  was  very  proud  of  having  gotten  a  foot- 
ing among  the  big  bank  burglars,  whom  he  had 
long  looked  upon  with  respect  and  envy.  After 
several  minor  robberies  Raymond  became  uneasy, 
and  declared  that  he  wanted  to  do  a  really  big  job 


ROBBING  THE  BOYLSTON  BANK 


mat  would  be  worth  while — something  that  would 
astonish  the  police  and  would  merit  the  respect  of 
the  big  professional  bank  burglars. 
•  Being  a  native  of  Massachusetts,  he  decided  to 
>  give  his  attention  to  something  in  his  own  State. 
He  made  a  tour  of  inspection  of  all  the  Boston 
banks,  and  decided  that  the  famous  Boylston  Bank, 
the  biggest  in  the  city,  would  suit  him. 

And,  in  picking  this  great  bank,  Raymond  hac 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  43 

indeed  selected  an  undertaking  which  was  worthy 
of  his  skill  and  daring. 

On  Washington  Street  Raymond's  quick  eye  at 
once  discovered  a  vacant  shop  adjoining  the  Boyls- 
ton  Bank.  He  rented  this  shop,  ostensibly  for  a 
patent  medicine  laboratory,  filled  the  windows  with 
bottles  of  bitters  and  built  a  partition  across  thej 
back  of  the  shop.  The  partition  was  to  hide  the 
piles  of  debris  which  would  accumulate  as  the  rob- 
bers burrowed  into  the  bank  next  door;  the  bottles 
in  the  window  to  prevent  passersby  seeing  too  much 
of  the  interior. 

When  news  of  this  clever  ruse  of  Raymond's  came 
out  in  the  papers  after  the  robbery,  I  made  a  note  of 
it  and  used  the  same  idea  years  later  in  robbing  an 
Illinois  bank  at  its  president's  request.  That  is  an 
interesting  chapter  in  my  life  which  I  will  give  you 
soon. 

Careful  measurements  had  shown  where  the  tun- 
neling through  the  thick  walls  of  the  bank  could 
best  be  bored.  Work  was  done  only  at  night,  and 
in  a  week's  time  only  a  thin  coating  of  plaster  sep- 
arated them  from  the  treasure.  The  robbers  en- 
tered the  vault  on  Saturday  night,  broke  open  three 
safes  which  they  found  there  and  escaped  with  a 
million  dollars  in  cash  and  securities.  After  this 
crime  America  was  not  safe  for  Raymond,  so  he, 
and  his  comrades,  including  Charley  Bullard,  fled 
to  Europe. 

In  Paris  Bullard  opened  a  gambling  house,  and 
there  Raymond  lived  when  the  criminal  ventures 


44  SOPHIE  LYONS 

from  which  he  was  amassing  his  first  fortune  per- 
mitted. 

And  now  there  entered  into  Raymond's  life  a 
very  remarkable  romance,  which  almost  caused  him 
to  reform. 

In  one  of  the  big  Parisian  hotels  at  this  time  was 
an  Irish  barmaid  named  Kate  Kelley.  She  was  an 
unusually  beautiful  girl — a  plump,  dashing  blonde 
of  much  the  same  type  Lillian  Eussell  was  years 
ago.  Bullard  and  Raymond  both  fell  madly  in  love 
with  her. 

The  race  for  her  favor  was  a  close  one,  despite 
the  fact  that  Bullard  was  an  accomplished  musi- 
cian, spoke  several  languages  fluently,  and  was  in 
other  ways  Raymond's  superior.  The  scales,  how- 
ever, were  surely  turning  in  Raymond's  favor 
when  the  rumor  that  he  was  a  bank  robber  reached 
Kate's  ears. 

Raymond  admitted  this  was  the  truth.  But  he 
never  attempted  to  take  advantage  of  his  friend 
Bullard  by  telling  Kate  that  he  also  was  a  thief. 
That  was  characteristic  of  the  man.  Criminal 
though  he  was,  he  never  stooped  to  anything  mean 
or  underhanded,  and  would  stand  by  his  friends 
through  thick  and  thin.  Instead  of  trying  to  drag 
Bullard  to  disappointment  with  him,  he  pleaded 
with  Kate  to  forgive  his  past  and  to  help  him  make 
a  fresh  start. 

" Marry  me,"  he  urged,  "and  I'll  never  commit 
another  crime.    We'll  go  to  some  distant  land  and 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  45 

I'll  start  all  over  again  in  some  decent,  honorable 
business. ' ' 

But  Kate  would  not  be  persuaded.  She  could  not 
marry  a  self-confessed  thief — no,  never!  A  month 
later  she  married  Bullard,  little  dreaming  how  glad 
the  American  police  would  be  to  lay  their  hands  on 
'him.  Raymond  was  best  man  at  the  wedding,  and 
to  his  credit  it  should  be  said  that  the  bridal  couple 
had  no  sincerer  well-wisher  than  he. 


Raymond's  great  disappointment 

Kate  never  realized  how  she  had  been  deceived 
until  several  years  later,  when  Bullard  was  given  a 
prison  sentence  for  running  a  crooked  gambling 
house.  She  got  an  inkling  of  the  facts  then  and  her 
husband  confessed  the  rest.  By  this  time,  however, 
she  had  two  little  children,  and  her  anxiety  for 
them  impelled  her  to  become  reconciled  to  the  situ- 
ation and  stick  to  her  husband.  After  his  release 
they  left  the  children  in  a  French  school,  returned 
to  this  country,  and  took  a  brown-stone  house  at  the 
corner  of  Cumberland  Street  and  De  Kalb  Avenue, 
in  Brooklyn.  Here  they  installed  all  the  costly 
furniture,  bric-a-brac,  and  paintings  which  had 
made  Bullard 's  gambling  house  one  of  the  show 
■'j laces  of  Paris. 

Soon  afterward  Raymond  also  came  to  America, 
although  there  was  a  price  on  his  head  for  his  share 
in  the  Boylston  Bank  robbery.  He  lived  with  Kate 
and  Bullard  until  the  latter 's  jealousy  caused  a 


4G  SOPHIE  LYONS 

quarrel.  Then  he  went  to  London  and  laid  the 
foundations  for  the  international  clearing  house  of 
crime  which  for  years  had  its  headquarters  in  his 
luxurious  apartment  in  Piccadilly. 

With  Raymond's  cool,  calculating  brain  no  longer 
there  to  guide  him,  Bullard  became  reckless  and  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  police.  He  was  sentenced  to, 
twenty  years  in  prison.  For  her  own  and  her  chil- 
dren's support  his  wife  had  nothing  except  the  rich 
contents  of  the  Brooklyn  home.  She  tried  various 
ways  of  making  a  living,  with  poor  success,  and  was 
at  last  forced  to  offer  a  quantity  of  her  paintings 
for  sale  in  an  art  store  on  Twenty-third  Street. 

In  this  store  one  day  she  met  Antonio  Terry. 
His  father  was  an  Irishman,  his  mother  a  native 
of  Havana,  and  he  had  inherited  millions  of  dollars 
in  Cuban  sugar  plantations.  Young  Terry  was  in- 
fatuated with  Kate's  queenly  beauty,  and  he  laid 
siege  to  her  heart  so  ardently  that  she  divorced 
her  convict  husband  and  married  him.  Two  chil- 
dren blessed  this  exceedingly  happy  marriage.  Be- 
fore Terry  died  he  divided  his  fortune  equally 
among  his  wife,  his  own  children,  and  the  children 
she  had  by  her  first  husband.  Kate  Terry  lived 
until  1895,  and  left  an  estate  valued  at  $6,000,000. 
She  passed  her  last  years  in  a  magnificent  mansion 
on  Fifth  Avenue,  surrounded  by  every  luxury. 

Kate  Kelley's  refusal  to  marry  Raymond  was 
one  of  the  great  disappointments  of  his  unhappy 
life.  He  married  another  woman,  but  I  am  sure 
he  never  forgot  the  winsome  Irish  barmaid  who 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  4? 

had  won  his  heart  in  Paris.  "What's  the  news  or 
Kate?"  used  to  be  his  first  question  whenever  I 
arrived  in  London,  and  his  face  would  fall  if  some- 
thing prevented  my  seeing  her  on  my  last  visit  to 
New  York.  Had  this  woman  become  Raymond's 
wife  I  am  confident  that  the  whole  course  of  his 
life  would  have  been  changed,  and  that  the  world 
would  have  something  to  remember  him  for  besides 
an  unbroken  record  of  crime. 

PLANNING    THE    GAINSBOROUGH    ROBBERY 

As  I  have  said,  Raymond  had  not  been  long  in 
London  before  he  had  forced  his  way  into  a  com- 
manding position  in  the  criminal  world.  The  clev- 
erest thieves  of  every  nation  sought  him  out  as  soon 
as  they  set  foot  in  England.  They  sought  his  ad- 
vice, carried  out  his  orders,  and  gladly  shared  with 
him  the  profits  of  their  illegal  enterprises.  Crimes 
in  every  corner  of  the  globe  were  planned  in  his 
luxurious  home — and  there,  often,  the  final  division 
of  booty  was  made. 

No  crime  seemed  too  difficult  or  too  daring  for 
Raymond  to  undertake.  It  was  his  almost  unbroken 
record  of  success  in  getting  large  amounts  of  plun- 
der and  in  escaping  punishment  for  crimes  thai 
gave  the  underworld  such  confidence  in  him  and 
made  all  the  cleverest  criminals  his  accomplices. 
Another  reason  for  his  leadership  was  his  unwaver- 
ing loyalty  to  his  friends.  Raymond  never 
" squealed" — he  never  deserted  a  friend.     When 


48  SOPHIE  LYONS 

one  of  his  associates  ran  foul  of  the  law  he  would 
give  as  freely  of  his  brains  and  money  to  secure 
his  release  as  if  his  own  liberty  were  at  stake.  It 
was  his  loyalty  to  a  friend — a  thief  named  Tom 
Warren — which  led  to  his  bold  theft  of  the  famous 
Gainsborough  portrait  for  which  J.  Pierpont  Mor- 
gan later  paid  $125,000.    Here  is  how  it  came  about : 

Warren  was  in  jail  in  London  for  his  share  in 
one  of  Raymond's  forgeries.  He  was  a  great  favor- 
ite of  Raymond's  and  Harry  vowed  he  would  have 
him  out  before  his  case  ever  came  to  trial.  This, 
however,  was  no  easy  matter,  because  England  is 
not  like  this  country,  where  almost  anyone  can 
furnish  bond.  The  bondsman  in  England  must  be 
a  freeholder  and  of  good  reputation. 

While  Raymond  was  searching  his  fertile  brain 
for  some  way  out  of  the  difficulty,  he  and  an  English 
thief  named  Jack  Philips  happened  to  be  walking 
through  Bond  Street  and  noticed  the  large  number 
of  fashionable  carriages  stopping  at  Agnew  &  Com- 
pany's art  gallery.  To  satisfy  their  curiosity  they 
entered  the  gallery  and  found  that  everybody  was 
crowding  about  a  wonderful  portrait  of  the  Duchess 
of  Devonshire,  painted  by  the  master  hand  of  the 
great  artist  Gainsborough. 

It  was  Gainsborough's  masterpiece,  and  the  Ag- 
news  were  considering  a  number  of  bids  that  had 
been  made  for  the  painting.  They  had  one  offer 
of  $100,000  from  an  American,  but  they  were  hold- 
ing it  on  exhibition  in  the  belief  that  a  still  better 
bid  would  be  made. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAES  49 

Raymond  stood  long  and  thoughtfully  on  the  edge 
of  the  crowd,  studied  the  painting,  took  in  the  doors, 
walls,  windows,  chatted  with  an  attendant,  and 
slowly  sauntered  out,  swinging  his  cane. 

"I  have  the  idea,"  exclaimed  Raymond  the  instant 
they  were  in  the  street  again.  "We'll  steal  that 
picture  and  use  it  as  a  club  to  compel  the  Agnews 
to  go  bail  for  Tom  Warren.' ' 

"You  don't  want  that  picture,"  said  Philips. 
"It's  a  clumsy  thing  to  do  anything  with." 

"Of  course  I  don't  want  the  picture — but  Agnew 
does,"  Raymond  replied.  "If  I  get  it  and  send 
word  that  Tom  Warren,  who  is  in  jail,  knows  where 
it's  hidden — don't  you  suppose  Agnew  will  hurry 
down  to  Old  Bailey  Prison,  bail  poor  Tom  out 
mighty  quick,  and  pay  him  something  besides  if 
Warren  digs  up  the  picture  for  him!" 

"He  might,"  admitted  Philips. 

"Why,  of  course  he  will,"  persisted  Raymond. 
"And  it's  the  only  way  I  can  see  to  make  sure  of 
getting  Tom  Warren  out  before  he  is  called  for 
trial.  When  they  try  him  they'll  convict  him;  and 
then  it's  too  late." 

Philips  was  not  enthusiastic  over  the  scheme.  In 
the  first  place  he  thought  it  too  risky.  Even  if  they 
did  succeed  in  getting  the  picture  he  feared  it  would 
prove  an  elephant  on  their  hands.  Raymond,  how- 
ever, was  a  man  who  seldom  receded  from  a  de- 
cision, no  matter  how  quickly  it  had  been  made.  He 
argued  away  Philip's  objections  and  with  the  assist- 
ance of  Joe  Elliott,  a  forger  whom  they  took  into 


50  SOPHIE  LYONS 

their  confidence,  they  proceeded  with  their  plans  for 
the  robbery. 

HOW  THE  GREAT  MASTERPIECE  WAS  STOLEN 

It  was  decided  to  make  the  attempt  on  the  first 
dark,  foggy  night.  Elliott  was  to  be  the  "lookout" 
and  keep  a  watchful  eye  for  any  of  the  army  of 
policemen  and  private  detectives  who  guarded  the 
gallery's  treasures.  Philips  was  to  serve  as  the 
'  *  stepladder.  \ '  On  his  broad,  powerful  shoulders, 
the  light,  agile  Raymond  would  mount  like  a  circus 
performer,  climb  through  a  window  and  cut  the 
precious  canvas  out  of  the  frame.  It  was  a  job 
fraught  with  the  greatest  danger,  for  the  gallery 
was  carefully  protected  with  locks  and  bars  and, 
besides,  no  one  could  tell  when  a  policeman  or  de- 
tective might  appear  on  the  scene. 

A  thick  fog  settled  down  on  the  city  the  night  of 
May  15,  1876.  Under  its  cover  the  thieves  decided 
to  make  their  descent  on  the  gallery  early  the  next 
morning. 

Just  as  the  clocks  were  striking  three,  Raymond 
stole  cautiously  into  the  alley  at  the  rear  of  the 
Agnew  gallery.  Then  he  was  joined  after  a  judi- 
cious interval  by  his  two  comrades. 

Elliott  remained  near  the  mouth  of  the  alley  to 
watch  for  "bobbies."  Raymond  and  Philips 
stealthily  made  their  way  over  the  back  fence  and 
to  a  rear  window,  whose  sill  was  about  eight  feet 
from  the  ground. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAES  51 

Stpfiining  his  ears  for  any  ominous  sound,  Philips 
braced  his  big  body  to  bear  Raymond's  weight 
Then  he  made  a  stirrup  of  his  hand  and  Raymond 
sprang  like  a  cat  to  his  shoulders. 

Crouching  in  the  darkness,  Elliott  watched  and 
waited  while  Raymond  applied  his  jimmy  to  the 
window.  "Click"  went  the  fastenings — but  not  too 
loud.  The  sash  was  cautiously  raised  and  Harry 
Raymond  dropped  to  the  floor  inside. 

Unluckily  for  the  owners  of  the  Gainsborough, 
the  watchmen  were*  asleep  on  &«*  upper  floor.  Ray- 
mond, with  the  clever  thief's  characteristic  caution, 
first  groped  his  way  to  the  front  door  to  see  if  he 
could  unfasten  it  and  thus  provide  a  second  avenue 
of  escape  for  use  in  an  emergency.  But  the  locks 
and  bars  were  too  much  for  him  and  he  gave  up  the 
attempt. 

By  the  dim  rays  of  his  dark  lantern  he  could  see 
the  gallery's  pride — the  famous  Gainsborough, 
hanging  on  what  picture  dealers  know  as  "the  line" 
— that  is  to  say,  about  G.ve  feet  from  the  floor. 

The  place  was  as  quiet  as  the  grave.  A  sudden 
sound  gave  Raymond  a  start — but  it  was  only  a  cat 
that  came  mewing  out  of  the  darkness.  Outside  a 
cab  rattled  by  and  the  heavy  tread  of  a  policeman's 
feet  echoed  through  the  street. 

Raymond  procured  a  table,  which  he  placed  before 
the  portrait.  By  star  ding  upon  it  he  was  barely 
able  to  reach  the  top.  With  a  long,  sharp  knife  he 
carefully  slashed  the  precious  canvas  from  its  heavy 
gold  frame. 


52  SOPHIE  LYONS 

At  one  of  the  bottom  corners  Raymond's  knife 
made  a  series  of  peculiar  zigzags.  Later  he  cut 
from  the  portrait  a  little  piece  that  matched  these 
jagged  lines.  This  was  to  send  to  the  Agnews  as 
evidence  that  he  really  had  the  picture. 

After  cutting  the^  picture  out,  Raymond  rolled  it 
up  carefully,  tied  it  with  a  string,  and  buttoned  it 
imderneath  his  coat.  Then  he  went  out  the  same 
way  he  had  entered,  being  careful  to  close  the  win- 
dow behind  him.  With  his  companions  he  returned 
to  his  Piccadilly  house  and  hid  in  a  closet  the  picture 
which  he  hoped  would  prove  his  friend's  ransom. 

Next  morning  all  London  was  in  a  fever  of  excite- 
ment over  the  loss  of  the  Gainsborough.  The  Ag- 
news offered  $5,000  for  its  return  and  soon  increased 
the  reward  to  $15,000.  A  hundred  of  the  best  de- 
tectives in  Scotland  Yard  scoured  the  city  for  clews. 

The  crime  was  shrouded  in  mystery.  The  doors 
of  the  gallery  had  not  been  tampered  with.  The 
fastenings  of  a  rear  window  were  broken,  but  the 
watchmen  averred  that  no  thief  could  have  entered 
there  as  they  had  been  sitting  close  by  all  night. 

In  all  London  the  only  persons  who  had  no  the- 
ories to  advance  as  to  the  Gainsborough's  fate  were 
Raymond,  Philips,  and  Elliott.  They  quietly  waited 
for  the  excitement  to  subside,  realizing  that  with 
the  public  mind  in  its  present  state  it  was  altogether 
too  hazardous  to  think  of  attempting  to  negotiate 
for  the  picture's  return. 

Mem-Yhile  eo^iething  happened  to  make  the 
Gainsborough  of  no  use  to  Kaymond— his  friend 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BUEGLAES  53 

Warren  was  released  from  jail  through  the  dis- 
covery of  a  technicality  in  his  indictment.  The 
famous  portrait  now  became  a  veritable  "  white  ele- 
phant.' '  Eaymond  dared  not  return  it — he  feared 
'to  leave  it  in  storage  lest  some  one  recognize  it. 
So  he  carried  the  roll  of  canvas  with  him  about 
the  world  until  later,  when,  through  "Pat"  Sheedy 's 
aid,  he  returned  it  to  the  Agnews  and  secured  $25,- 
000  for  his  pains. 

PAT  SHEEDY  *S  PABT 

And  that  is  the  history  of  what  happened  to 
Gainsborough's  famous  "Duchess  of  Devonshire' * 
painting,  which  is  now  in  J.  Pierpont  Morgan's  pri- 
vate art  gallery  on  Madison  Avenue,  New  York. 
As  I  said  earlier  in  this  article,  Eaymond,  who 
stole  it,  neither  wanted  the  picture  nor  the  money 
it  represented.  Eaymond  cut  that  painting  from 
its  frame  as  an  act  of  loyalty  to  a  fellow  thief  who 
was  in  trouble — to  use  it  as  a  powerful  lever  to 
make  sure  of  getting  Tom  Warren  cut  of  prisor 

And  right  here,  before  going  further  with  the 
episodes  of  Eaymond's  remarkable  career,  let  me 
explain  the  mystery  of  how  "Pat"  Sheedy,  the  New 
York  gambler,  happened  to  be  the  person  who  sold 
the  stolen  Gainsborough  back  to  the  Agnews. 

Long  before  that  "Pat"  Sheedy  and  Harry  Eay- 
mond had  done  much  business  together.  After 
Sheedy  had  accumulated  a  fortune  by  gambling,  he 
built  up  a  large  and  exceedingly  profitable  business 


54  SOPHIE  LYONS 

in  the  sale  of  stolen  paintings.  Through  his  wide 
acquaintance  he  formed  a  convenient  connecting 
link  between  the  rich  men  who  could  afford  to  buy 
rare  paintings  and  the  clever  criminals  who  knew 
how  to  steal  them.  Raymond  took  up  the  stealing 
3f  paintings  when  he  became  too  old  and  too  well 
imown  to  the  police  to  attempt  more  profitable  kinds 
of  robbery,  and  it  was  through  Sheedy  that  he  dis- 
posed of  most  of  them. 

A  number  of  years  before  Raymond  died  he  met 
me  in  London  and  asked  if  I  could  do  some  business 
for  him.  Being  in  need  of  ready  money,  I  readily 
agreed.  He  took  me  to  his  apartments  and  handed 
me  two  paintings  which  showed  at  a  glance  that 
they  had  been  cut  from  their  frames. 

"I  got  these  from  a  cathedral  in  Antwerp,"  said 
Raymond.  "I  want  you  to  take  them  to  New  York 
and  sell  them  to  Pat  Sheedy  for  $75,000.  If  he 
won't  give  that,  bring  them  back  to  me.  I'll  pay 
you  well  for  your  time  and  trouble." 

Accordingly  I  sailed  for  New  York.  By  wrap- 
ping the  pictures  in  some  old  clothes  at  the  bottom 
of  my  trunk,  I  got  them  by  the  customs  inspectors 
without  any  trouble.  I  had  then  never  met  Sheedy 
and  it  occurred  to  me  that  if  I  had  to  leave  the  pic- 
tures with  him  he  might  try  to  take  advantage  of 
my  ignorance  of  art  by  substituting  copies  for  the 
originals.  So,  before  setting  out  for  Sheedy 's  office 
in  Forty-second  Street,  I  took  an  indelible  pencil 
and  marked  my  initials,  very  small,  on  the  back  of 
each  canva3. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  55 

As  I  had  expected,  Slieedy  asked  me  to  leave  the 
pictures  until  the  next  day  as  he  was  not  sure  he 
could  afford  to  pay  $75,000  for  them.  The  next  day 
he  put  me  off  with  some  other  excuse,  and  so  it  went 
on  for  two  weeks  until  I  felt  sure  something  was 
vvrong.  Then  one  morning  he  handed  me  two  pic- 
tures, saying: 

" Sorry,  but  I  don't  think  these  are  worth  more 
than  $10,000.  If  you'll  take  that  for  them,  I'll  buy 
them." 

RAYMOND  AND  HIS  YACHT 

Of  course,  I  told  him  my  instructions  were  not  to 
accept  a  cent  less  than  $75,000,  and  if  he  didn't  want 
to  pay  that  I  would  have  to  take  them  back  to  Lon- 
don. I  was  about  to  roll  them  up  when  I  chanced 
to  think  of  looking  for  my  initials.  They  were  not 
there — Sheedy  was  trying  to  palm  off  cheap  copies 
on  me  in  place  of  the  originals.  Quick  as  a  flash,  I 
pulled  out  the  revolver  I  always  carried  in  those 
days ;  shoved  it  right  under  Sheedy 's  nose,  and  said: 

"Come,  Mr.  Sheedy — hand  over  the  original 
paintings  I  left  with  you,  or  I'll  blow  your  head 
off!" 

He  was  considerably  amazed  at  this  warlike  nerve 
on  my  part,  but  still  had  nerve  enough  left  to  argue 
that  those  were  the  pictures  I  had  given  him.  But 
I  was  not  to  be  tricked  like  that.  Finally  he  went 
into  an  adjoining  room — I  after  him  with  the  gun 
in  my  hand — pulled  open  a  drawer  and  took  out 
the  canvasses  which  had  my  initials  on  the  back. 


56  SOPHIE  LYONS 

I  carried  them  back  to  London,  where  Raymond  sold 
them  for  $75,000,  of  which  he  gave  me  $10,000.  I 
sold  many  stolen  paintings  to  Sheedy  after  that, 
but  he  never  tried  to  take  advantage  of  me  again. 

Raymond  often  used  to  tell  me  that  all  his  bad 
luck  dated  from  the  night  he  stole  the  famous  Gains- 
borough. If  the  portrait  really  was  a  " hoodoo' '  its 
evil  influence  was  a  long  time  in  taking  effect.  The 
two  or  three  years  after  his  robbery  of  the  Agnew 
gallery  saw  the  most  daring  crimes  of  his  life  and 
the  money  they  yielded  made  him  a  multi-million- 
aire. Even  his  heavy  losses  at  Monte  Carlo  could 
not  seriously  affect  a  fortune  which  was  being  stead- 
ily increased  by  all  sorts  of  illegal  undertakings. 

He  lived  like  a  prince  in  London  and  Paris,  owned 
several  race  horses  and  maintained,  besides  a  sailing 
yacht,  a  palatial  steam  yacht  with  a  crew  of  twenty 
men.  He  liked  to  vary  the  monotony  of  his  cruises 
by  deeds  of  piracy  as  sensational  as  any  Captain 
Kidd  ever  attempted.  On  one  such  occasion  he 
robbed  a  post-office  on  the  island  of  Malta;  on  an- 
other he  attempted  to  loot  a  warehouse  on  the  docks 
at  Kingston,  Jamaica.  This  last  exploit  would  have 
ended  in  his  capture  by  a  British  gunboat  which 
pursued  him  for  twenty  miles  had  his  yacht  not 
been  a  remarkably  speedy  craft. 


Raymond's  expeet  on  safe  cracking 

Raymond  was  a  natural  leader  of  men,  and  he 
had  a  sharp  eye  for  able  assistants.    In  his  gang* 


<SUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  57 

were  the  greatest  experts  he  could  collect  around 
him.  Raymond  was  not  a  technically  educated  ma- 
chinist, and  he  felt  the  need  of  an  expert  mechanic. 
For  a  number  of  years  he  watched  the  work  of 
various  other  bank  burglars  and  gave  especial  at- 
tention to  any  work  that  showed  peculiar  mechani- 
cal skill  in  getting  into  locks  and  steel  safes. 

Finally  Raymond  got  his  eye  on  a  very  promising 
young  burglar  named  Mark  Shinburn,  who  turned 
out  to  be  a  perfect  wonder  as  a  safe  opener.  Shin- 
burn  had  served  an  apprenticeship  in  a  machine 
shop  and  soon  got  a  job  in  the  factory  of  the  Lilly 
Safe  Company.  Locks  and  safes  had  a  peculiar 
fascination  for  Shinburn  and  he  rapidly  mastered 
the  whole  scheme,  theory,  and  practice  of  lock- 
making,  and  knew  the  weak  points  not  only  of 
the  locks  his  own  company  made  but  also  of  all  the 
other  big  safe  makers  whose  locks  and  safes  were 
on  the  market. 

Shinburn  was  just  the  man  to  fit  into  Raymond's 
band  of  experts.  He  had  the  peculiar  and  valuable 
technical  knowledge  that  Raymond  lacked.  Ray- 
mond would  select  a  bank,  study  the  habits  of  the 
bank  clerks,  survey  the  situation,  and  lay  out  the 
plans  for  the  job.  Raymond  would  execute  all  these 
preliminaries  and  would  lead  his  men  into  the  bank 
and  face  to  face  with  the  safe;  but  at  this  point 
Shinburn  would  bring  his  genius  into  action  and; 
Raymond  would  stand  by  holding  his  dark  lantern 
and  watching  Shinburn  with  silent  admiration. 

Raymond  and  Shinburn  were  the  moving  spirits 


58  SOPHIE  LYONS 

of  the  bold  gang  which  robbed  the  Ocean  Bank  in 
New  York  of  a  million  dollars.  With  them  were 
associated  Jimmy  Hope,  who  later  led  the  attack 
on  the  Manhattan  Bank;  my  hnsband,  Ned  Lyons, 
Gteorge  Bliss,  and  several  others. 

On  his  return  from  a  series  of  bank  robberies  on 
the  Continent,  Eaymond  took  apartments  in  the 
honse  of  a  widow  who  lived  with  her  two  daughters 
in  Bayswater,  a  suburb  of  London.  He  became 
in  time  much  attached  to  this  woman  and  her  chil- 
dren, and  lavished  every  luxury  on  them,  including 
the  education  of  the  girls  in  the  best  French  schools. 
For  years  this  family  never  suspected  their  bene- 
factor was  a  criminal,  but  supposed  him  to  be  a 
prosperous  diamond  importer. 

"When  the  eldest  daughter's  education  was  fin- 
ished Eaymond  married  her.  She  was  a  beautiful 
woman,  but  a  weak,  clinging  sort  of  creature — very 
different  from  strong,  self-willed  Kate  Kelley.  Al- 
though passionately  fond  of  her,  Eaymond 's  atti- 
tude toward  her  was  always  that  of  the  devoted 
father  rather  than  the  loving  husband. 

After  his  marriage  Eaymond  made  many  sincere 
attempts  to  reform.  Ho  became  a  student  of  art 
and  literature,  and  for  months  at  a  time  would  live 
\  quietly  in  his  London  home  or  on  board  his  yacht. 
Then  the  old  life  would  call  him — he  would  mysteri- 
ously drop  out  of  sight  for  a  few  weeks,  and  with 
the  aid  of  some  of  his  old  associates  add  another 
crime  to  his  record. 

On  one  of  these  occasions  he  and  John  Curtin,  a 


QUEEN  OP  THE  BURGLARS  S9 

desperate  burglar,  went  to  Liege,  Belgium.  Their 
object  was  the  robbery  of  a  wagon  which  carried 
a  large  amount  of  valuable  registered  mail. 

Raymond  had  fitted  a  key  to  the  lock  on  the  wagoa 
ind  had  sent  a  decoy  package,  whose  delivery  would 
necessitate  the  driver  leaving  the  mail  unguarded, 
at  a  certain  place.    Curtin  was  to  delay  the  driver 'si 
return  while  Raymond  climbed  up  on  the  front  of 
the  wagon  and  rifled  the  pouches. 


TREACHERY  AND  TRAGEDY 

But  Curtin  carelessly  failed  to  carry  out  part  of 
this  arrangement  and  the  driver  caught  Raymond 
in  the  act  He  was  arrested,  convicted,  and  given 
the  first  and  only  prison  sentence  he  ever  received— 
eight  years  at  hard  labor.  With  the  loyalty  for 
which  he  was  famous  Raymond  steadfastly  refused 
to  reveal  the  identity  of  the  confederate  to  whose 
folly  he  owed  his  own  arrest,  and  Curtin  escaped  to 
England. 

Soon  after  his  sentence  began,  rumors  reached 
Raymond  in  prison  of  the  undue  intimacy  of  his 
wife  and  Curtin.  He  investigated  the  reports  and 
found  them  true.  Raging  with  indignation  at  his 
wife's  weakness  and  his  friend's  treachery,  he  broke 
his  lifelong  habit  of  loyalty,  confessed  to  the  author- 
ities Curtin's  share  in  the  attempted  robbery  and 
told  them  where  he  could  be  found.  Curtin  was 
brought  back  to  Belgium  and  sentenced  to  five  years 
in  prison. 


60  SOPHIE  LYONS 

Mrs.  Raymond's  mind  gave  way  under  its  weight 
of  remorse,  and  soon  after  her  husband's  release 
she  died  in  an  asylum.  This  was  not  the  only  crush- 
ing misfortune  the  released  convict  had  to  face. 
Through  unfortunate  investments  and  the  dishon 
esty  of  friends  he  had  trusted,  his  fortune  had 
dwindled  to  almost  nothing.  He  had  to  sell  his 
yachts,  his  horses,  and  his  London  house  with  its 
fine  library  and  art  galleries  in  order  to  raise  enough 
to  provide  for  the  education  of  his  three  children. 
He  sent  them  to  America,  where  they  grew  to  man- 
hood and  womanhood  in  ignorance  of  the  truth 
about  their  father. 

With  an  energy  worthy  of  a  better  cause,  Ray- 
mond at  once  set  about  making  a  new  fortune.  The 
whole  world  was  his  field — forgeries,  bank  robber- 
ies, and  jewel  thefts  his  favorite  methods.  But  the 
nervous  strain  under  which  he  had  always  lived  and 
the  long  prison  term  were  beginning  to  tell  on  him. 
His  health  was  poor — his  hand  and  brain  were  los- 
ing much  of  their  cunning.  Each  crime  made  the 
next  one  more  difficult,  as  the  police  got  to  know 
him  and  his  methods  better,  and  at  last  he  was 
forced  to  abandon  the  bolder  forms  of  robbery  and 
devote  his  time  entirely  to  the  theft  of  famous  paint- 
ings. 

Yet,  in  the  face  of  these  handicaps,  Raymond 
made  in  those  last  years  of  his  life  several  for- 
tunes. But  one  after  another  they  were  all  swept 
away  as  quickly  as  they  were  made,  and  he  died,  as 
I  have  said,  penniless. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  61 

Did  crime  pay  Harry  Raymond?  He  invested  his 
natural  endowment  of  brains,  resourcefulness,  dar- 
ing, energy,  and  perseverance  in  criminal  enter- 
prises— and  died  a  hunted,  hungry,  trembling  out- 
?ast.  One-half  his  industry  and  intelligence  ex- 
pended in  honest  business  would  have  insured  him 
a  great  and  enduring  fortune  and  a  respected  name. 
If  crime  does  not  pay  for  the  really  great  criminals, 
how  can  the  small  criminals  have  any  hop©? 


62  SOPHIE  LYONS 


CHAPTER  III 

HOW    I   ESCAPED    FROM    SING    SING,    AND    OTHER    DARING 
ESCAPES  FROM  PRISON  THAT  PROFITED  US  NOTHING. 

It  is  not  easy  to  get  out  of  Sing  Sing  Prison.  Ned 
Lyons,  the  bank  burglar,  my  husband,  got  out,  and 
so  did  I.  We  were  both  serving  sentences  of  five 
years  at  the  same  time. 

Ned  Lyons  was  a  desperate  man,  and  he  had  no 
notion  of  remaining  long  in  any  prison.  Although 
his  body  was  already  considerably  punctured  with 
pistol  bullets,  he  did  not  welcome  the  idea  of  invit- 
ing the  rifle  balls  from  the  armed  sentries  who  pa- 
troled  the  prison  walls  on  all  sides.  A  dash  for 
liberty  was  out  of  the  question — if  he  was  to  escape 
it  must  be  through  some  adroit  scheme  which  would 
not  make  him  a  target  for  the  riflemen  who  surround 
the  prison. 

My  husband  and  I  had  a  comfortable  home  on 
the  East  Side  in  New  York,  but  I  had  very  little 
peace  of  mind  because  of  the  activities  of  Lyons 
and  his  energetic  companions.  As  I  have  said  be- 
fore, these  men  had  found  it  very  convenient  to  have 
my  assistance  in  their  various  enterprises,  and  so 
it  was  that  my  husband  and  I  both  got  into  Sing* 
Sing  at  the  same  time — Lyons  was  confined  in  the 
men's  prison  and  I  was  in  the  women's  prison  just 
across  the  road. 

It  was  the  Waterford,  N.  Y.,  bank  that  had  been 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  63 

robbed  of  $150,000,  and  in  the  party  were  George 
Bliss,  Ira  Kingsland,  and  the  famous  Jimmy  Hope. 
Of  the  whole  party,  Hope  alone  was  not  caught. 
Just  how  my  husband  got  out  of  Sing  Sing  I  am 
able  to  explain,  because  I  myself  planned  the  escape. 
The  day  I  reached  Sing  Sing  I  was  turned  over 
to  the  prison  physician  for  him  to  find  out  what  my 
physical  condition  was,  and  what  kind  of  work  I  was 
best  fitted  to  do.  This  doctor's  name  was  Collins. 
I  shall  never  forget  him  for  he  was  one  of  the  kind- 
est hearted  men  I  ever  knew.  In  my  hope  of  being 
assigned  to  some  easy  work  where  I  would  be  able 
to  assist  in  my  husband's  plans  for  escape,  I  pre- 
tended to  him  I  was  suffering  from  all  sorts  of  ail- 
ments. 

PLANNING  LYONS  *S  ESCAPE 

"Why,  Doctor,"  I  said,  "I'm  a  sick  woman,  and 
besides  I  don't  know  how  to  do  any  kind  of  work, 
I've  never  had  to  work  for  a  living." 

"Well,  my  good  little  woman,"  the  doctor  re- 
plied, "you'll  have  to  learn  to  work.  You're  in  here 
for  five  years,  and  nobody  is  allowed  to  play  the 
lady  in  Sing  Sing  Prison,  you  know." 

"But,  Doctor,"  I  said,  "you  wouldn't  have  Sophie 
Lyons  be  anything  but  a  lady,  would  youf " 

"I'd  like  to  make  an  honest  woman  of  you,  Sophie 
-—that's  more  important  than  being  a  lady,"  he 
answered  gravely,  "and  I'm  going  to  try.  I've  got 
'  nough  confidence  in  your  sense  of  honor  to  give 
you  a  position  as  assistant  nurse  in  the  prison  hos- 


64  SOPHIE  LYONS 

pital.  If  you  profit  by  your  opportunities  there,  you 
can  learn  a  good  trade  which  will  enable  you  to  make 
an  honest  living  when  your  term  is  up." 

Nothing  could  have  suited  me  better.  A  position 
in  the  hospital  is  the  easiest  work  the  prison  offers, 
and  it  would  give  me  just  the  opportunities  I  needed 
to  help  my  husband  escape.  But  I  tried  not  to  let 
Dr.  Collins  see  how  delighted  I  was  and  pretended 
to  be  very  tearful  and  penitent  as  I  thanked  him 
for  his  kindness. 

My  husband  was  allowed  to  come  and  see  me 
once  a  week  under  guard  of  a  prison  keeper.  My 
conduct  was  so  good  and  had  given  the  matron  and 
Dr.  Collins  such  confidence  in  me  that  Ned  and  I 
were  soon  permitted  to  talk  without  any  prison  offi- 
cial being  present  to  listen,  as  the  prison  rules  re- 
quired. 

On  these  visits  we  had  opportunity  for  discussing 
various  plans  for  escape,  but  we  both  agreed  that 
no  one  of  them  would  probably  succeed.  I  favored 
trying  to  get  a  forged  pass — a  counterfeit  of  the 
passes  given  to  visitors,  which  the  keeper  at  the 
prison  door  must  have  before  he  allows  anybody 
to  leave  the  building.  But  my  husband  had  serious 
doubts. 

About  this  time  the  matron's  two  children  were 
;  taken  sick  and  I  was  assigned  to  her  house  to  take 
care  of  them.  So  faithfully  did  I  nurse  them  back 
to  health  that  the  matron  became  quite  fond  of  me 
and  wanted  me  to  remain  there  permanently  as  her 
personal  servant. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  65 

When  Ned  Lyons  came  to  see  me  again  he  was 
amazed  at  my  good  fortune  in  receiving  a  position 
which  was  the  next  best  thing  to  liberty  itself.  It 
not  only  gave  me  all  sorts  of  liberties  but  it  enabled 
me  to  dress  like  any  servant  girl  instead  of  in  the 
regulation  prison  costume.  This  last  fact  would 
prove  of  tremendous  advantage  when  my  oppor- 
tunity to  make  a  break  for  liberty  came. 

"BED"  liEABY   LENDS   AID 

Besides  this  I  was  allowed  a  little  pocket  money 
to  buy  candies,  fruit,  and  occasional  trinkets  for 
the  children. 

Ned  brought  good  news  this  time.  He  had  pon- 
dered over  my  suggestion  of  a  forged  pass  and 
the  more  he  thought  of  it  the  more  it  seemed  a  prom- 
ising scheme.  But  there  were  several  important 
things  that  must  be  done,  and  done  well,  to  make 
the  plan  reasonably  sure  of  success. 

Lyons,  in  prison,  could  not  personally  attend  to 
the  necessary  details.  He  must  have  outside  help. 
Usually,  in  such  emergencies,  I  was  the  one  who  was 
relied  upon  to  attend  to  matters  of  this  kind — but, 
unfortunately,  I,  too,  was  in  prison  and  under  close 
watch. 

I     So,  in  casting  about  for  a  reliable  friend,  Lyons 

!  decided  to  ask  the  help  of  "Red"  Leary,  the  bank 

burglar,  who  had  been  associated  with  my  husband 

in  the  famous  $3,000,000  Manhattan  Bank  robbery. 

Word  was  sent  to  Leary  and,  on  the  next  "visitors1 


66  SOPHIE  LYONS 

day,"  a  gentleman  with  high  silk  hat  and  black 
gloves  and  a  lawyer's  green  bag  drove  up  to  the 
prison  and  sent  in  his  card  to  the  Warden — could 
Ned  Lyons 's  "lawyer"  see  his  imprisoned  client? 

In  this  guise  "Red"  Leary,  high  hat,  lawyer's 
bag  and  gloves,  swept  into  the  prison  and  was 
courteously  allowed  an  interview  with  my  husband. 
Ned  explained  that  two  important  things  were 
needed — a  visitor's  pass  properly  signed  with  the 
Warden's  signature,  and  a  carefully  selected  dis- 
guise for  the  escaping  man  to  use.  Could  "Red" 
Leary  attend  to  these  two  matters?  "Red"  Leary 
could,  and  with  much  pleasure — and  the  first  move 
in  the  proceedings  then  and  there  was  to  carefully 
chew  up  his  pass  into  a  wad  and  tuck  it  behind  his 
upper  molar  teeth. 

Ned  Lyons  was  led  back  to  his  cell  and  his  "law- 
yer" put  on  his  silk  hat  and  arose  to  leave.  He 
began  searching  his  pockets  and  his  green  bag  for 
his  missing  pass.  An  attendant  helped  him.  Then 
the  keeper  at  the  door  took  a  hand  and  looked 
through  his  pocketbook  and  papers  while  the  "law- 
yer," in  much  distress,  turned  his  pockets  inside 
out.    But  no  pass  could  be  found. 

At  last  the  principal  keeper,  Connaughton,  was 
called  and  he  reprimanded  the  "lawyer"  severely 
for  his  carelessness,  but  finally  allowed  the  visitor 
to  depart — and  behind  "Red"  Leary 's  back  teeth 
was  the  pass  that  was  so  much  needed  in  forging 
a  fresh  one,  with  the  proper  day  and  date  on  it. 
Leary  retwri>ed  to  New  York  and  enlisted  the  ser- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  67 

rices  of  a  friend  who  was  an  expert  check  forger 
and  soon  had  a  pass  that  the  Warden  of  Sing  Sing 
himself  would  not  know  was  a  forgery.  And  this 
precious  piece  of  paper  was  smuggled  in  to  Lyons 
and  he  hid  it  in  a  crack  in  the  floor  of  his  cell.  Ned 
planned  to  use  this  pass  in  making  his  escape  if  he 
could  get  a  wig  to  cover  his  closely  cropped  heaor, 
a  false  beard  to  disguise  his  face,  and  a  suit  of 
clothes  to  replace  his  prison  stripes  in  time  for 
the  next  visitors '  day. 

"Red"  Leary  was  to  call  to  see  me  the  next  day 
and  I  was  to  arrange  with  him  about  securing  these 
necessaries.  They  were  to  be  left  in  an  obscure 
corner  grocery  outside  the  prison  where  a  * '  trusty, ' ' 
whom  my  husband  had  befriended,  would  claim 
them  and  smuggle  them  into  Ned's  cell. 

It  was  a  Wednesday  I  had  my  last  call  fvom  Ned. 
Through  one  of  those  mysterious  underground  chan- 
nels which  keep  the  inmates  of  every  prison  in  such 
close  touch  with  the  outside  world,  my  husband  had 
learned  that  on  the  following  Tuesday,  which  was 
a  visitors '  day,  the  Warden  and  several  other  prom- 
inent officials  of  the  prison  were  to  be  away  attend- 
ing a  political  meeting.  That  was  the  day  he  had 
set  for  his  escape,  provided  our  friend  Leary  could 
deliver  the  necessary  disguise  in  time. 

I  had  my  doubts  about  "Red"  Leary,  who  was 
good  hearted  enough  and  meant  well,  but  was  prone 
to  be  careless  about  keeping  appointments.  To  my 
delight,  however,  he  was  on  hand  next  day  and  he 
got  permission  from  the  matron  to  see  me.    Wbfc»t 


68  SOPHIE  LYONS 

I  asked  him  if  he  had  everything  in  readiness  he 
burst  into  a  torrent  of  eager  explanations. 

"It's  all  out  there  in  the  buggy,  Sophie,"  he  said, 
"tied  up  in  a  bundle  that  you'd  take  for  anything 
but  what  it  is.  Everything's  there  and  every- 
thing's right.  Why,  even  the  shirt  and  collar  are 
Ned's  right  size,  and,  say,  I  bet  they'll  feel  goodl 
after  rubbing  his  neck  for  months  against  that  rough 
prison  stuff." 

THE  PRISON  BELL  SOUNDS  ALARM 

Leary  was  a  talkative  fellow  and  he  was  going  on 
with  a  detailed  description  of  the  wig  and  false 
beard  which  he  had  had  made  to  order  for  the  occa- 
sion, when  Dr.  Collins  and  the  matron  appeared  at 
the  end  of  the  corridor  where  we  were  sitting.  I 
signaled  "Ned"  to  keep  quiet  and  led  him  over  to  a 
window. 

There,  under  pretext  of  showing  him  some  gera- 
niums I  was  trying  to  coax  into  bloom,  I  hurriedly 
explained  where  he  was  to  leave  the  things  and  sent 
him  away  on  the  errand  which  meant  so  much  to 
Ned  and  me. 

The  next  Tuesday  was  the  longest,  most  nerve- 
racking  day  of  my  life.  I  had  slept  little  the  night 
before,  All  night  long  my  mind  was  turning  over 
Ned's  plans — how,  by  feigning  sickness,  he  would 
get  permission  to  leave  the  shop  and  go  to  his  cell ; 
how  he  would  change  his  clothes  and  put  on  the 
wig  and  false  beard  "Bed"  Leary  had  bought;  and 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  69 

how,  just  as  his  fellow  prisoners  were  being  marched 
in  to  their  noonday  meal,  he  would  mingle  with  the 
little  crowd  of  departing  visitors,  surrender  his 
forged  pass  at  the  gate  and  walk  out  of  the  main 
entrance  of  the  prison  a  free  man. 

I  had  approved  every  bit  of  this  plan — in  fact,  I 
myself  had  mapped  out  a  large  part  of  it.  Yet  now, 
when  I  considered  on  what  narrow  margins  its  suc- 
cess depended,  I  felt  it  was  foredoomed  to  failure. 
Ned  would  be  caught  in  the  act — he  would  be  put  in 
solitary  confinement — perhaps  he  would  be  shot 
dead  by  some  vigilant  guard. 

I  arose  unusually  early  that  Tuesday  morning  and 
worked  unusually  hard — to  hide  my  nervousness. 

Nothing  out  of  the  ordinary  happened  to  relieve 
the  awful  tension.  Early  in  the  morning  I  heard 
from  one  of  the  other  prisoners  that  the  Warden 
and  his  assistants  had  gone  away  for  the  day.  This, 
of  course,  coincided  with  Ned's  plans,  but  it  brought 
me  little  relief,  for  I  feared  that  perhaps  the  offi- 
cers left  in  charge  might,  in  the  absence  of  their 
superiors,  be  unusually  careful  in  guarding  their 
convict  charges. 

Noon  came  and  went  and  still  I  heard  nothing  to 
relieve  my  anxiety.  "No  news  is  good  news,"  I 
kept  saying  to  myself,  and  in  this  case  the  old  adage 
really  spoke  the  truth.  If  there  was  no  excitement  j 
about  the  prison  it  was  good  evidence  that  Ned's 
absence  had  not  been  noted.  And  if  they  did  not 
discover  his  absence  until  they  came  to  lock  the  pris- 
oners up  for  the  night  all  was  well,  for  by  that  time 


76  SOPHIE  LYONS 

I  knew  Ned  would  be  safe  in  his  old  haunts  on  the 
East  Side,  in  New  York  City. 

But  there  still  remained  the  discouraging  possi- 
bility that  at  the  last  minute  some  of  his  plans  had 
miscarried  and  he  had  been  obliged  to  postpone  the 
attempt. 

Night  came  and  I  was  setting  the  table  for  the 
evening  meal  when  I  heard  the  sounds  of  some  un- 
usual excitement  over  in  the  men's  prison,  across 
the  road.  There  was  much  running  to  and  fro,  keep- 
ers were  shouting  to  each  other  and  presently  the 
prison  bell  began  to  ring  frantically.  The  sound  of 
the  bell  made  my  heart  jump — it  was  never  rung,  I 
knew,  except  in  case  of  fire  or  when  a  prisoner  es- 
caped. 

"What  on  earth  is  that  bell  ringing  for?"  said 
the  matron.  I  was  just  saying  that  I  didn't  know 
and  was  trying  to  hide  my  excitement  when  in  rushed 
Dr.  Collins,  all  breathless  and  worried. 

"Heard  the  news?"  he  shouted.  And  before  the 
■aatron  could  say  yes  or  no  out  he  burst  with  the 
whole  story. 

"Ned  Lyons,  the  bank  robber,  has  escaped!"  he 
said.  "He's  been  gone  since  noon  and  they  never 
knew  it  until  just  now,  when  they  went  to  lock  him 
in  his  cell  and  found  nothing  there  but  his  suit  of 
stripes.  It's  the  boldest  escape  there's  been  in 
years. 

"According  to  all  accounts  he  walked  right  out 
of  the  main  gate,  stepped  into  a  buggy  that  was 
waiting,  and  drove  off  like  a  gentleman.    Of  course 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAES  71 

he  was  disguised,  and  so  cleverly  they  say  that  one 
of  the  head  gatekeepers  bowed  to  him  at  the  gate, 
thinking  he  was  a  member  of  that  new  legislative 
commission  from  Albany.' ' 

A  great  weight  rolled  from  my  heart — Ned  was 
free !  I  managed  to  control  my  feelings  and  it  was 
lucky  I  did,  for  the  next  instant  I  saw  the  matron 
point  a  warning  finger  in  my  direction,  and  at  that 
the  doctor  lowered  his  voice  so  that  I  could  hear  no 
more. 

NED   LYONS    IN    DISGUISE 

The  next  morning,  of  course,  the  whole  prison 
knew  of  the  escape. 

"If  I  get  out  I'll  have  you  out  in  a  few  weeks,' f 
Ned  had  promised,  and  every  day  I  was  expecting 
some  word  from  him. 

As  time  went  on,  the  confidence  the  matron  and 
the  doctor  had  in  me  seemed  to  increase  rather  than 
diminish.  Soon  I  was  allowed  to  accompany  the 
matron's  little  daughters  on  long  walks  through  the 
grounds  outside  the  prison,  and  even  as  far  as  the 
village. 

On  one  of  these  walks  my  attention  was  attracted 
by  the  peculiar  actions  of  an  old  Indian  peddler. 
He  was  a  copper-colored,  long-haired  old  chief,  with 
Indian  baskets  and  strings  of  beads  on  his  arms. 
As  soon  as  the  girls  and  I  stepped  out  of  the  prison 
gate  this  queer  looking,  bent  old  man  singled  us  out 
from  all  the  rest  of  the  crowd  and  began  following 
us  about,  urging  us  with  muffled  grunts  to  buy  some 


72  SOPHIE  LYONS 

of  the  bead  goods  lie  carried  in  a  basket  strapped 
around  his  neck. 

I  thought  he  was  crazy  and  told  him  very  em- 
phatically that  I  didn't  want  any  of  his  trash.  But 
this  did  not  discourage  him  in  the  least,  and  he 
dogged  our  footsteps  wherever  we  went. 

At  last — more  to  be  rid  of  the  old  fellow  than  be- 
cause I  wanted  anything  he  had — I  selected  from 
his  stock  a  pair  of  bead  slippers. 

As  I  handed  him  the  money  I  felt  him  press  a 
little  folded  slip  of  paper  into  the  hollow  of  my 
hand. 

Quick  as  a  flash  I  closed  my  fingers  over  it,  and 
in  that  instant  I  recognized — under  the  old  Indian 
peddler's  clever  disguise — my  husband,  Ned  Lyons. 

He  had  come  back  to  the  very  gates  of  the  prison 
from  which  he  had  escaped  to  bring  this  message 
to  me! 

Kate  Leary,  wife  of  "Red"  Leary,  the  bank 
burglar,  was  coming  to  see  me  soon — so  the  note 
said.  I  was  to  have  my  plans  for  escape  all  ready 
to  discuss  with  her. 

Now,  the  only  way  of  getting  out  of  my  prison 
I  had  been  able  to  discover  was  through  a  door  which 
led  from  a  little  used  passageway  in  the  basement 
of  the  matron's  house  to  a  point  just  outside  the 
prison  walls. 

This  door — a  massive,  iron-barred  affair — was- 
seldom  if  ever  opened.  The  big  brass  key  which 
unlocked  it  hung  with  other  keys  from  a  ring  sus- 
pended at  the  matron's  belt. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  73 

Kate  Leary  could  easily  have  a  duplicate  of  that 
key  made,  but  first  I  must  secure  a  model  of  the 
original.  This  wasn't  a  difficult  task — I  had  often 
done  similar  tricks  to  aid  my  husband  in  his  bank 
robberies.  I  slipped  into  the  matron's  room  while 
she  was  taking  a  nap  and  took  a  careful  impression' 
of  the  key  on  a  piece  of  wax. 

In  due  time  Kate  Leary  brought  the  key  which 
had  been  carefully  made  from  my  wax  model.  At 
the  first  opportunity  I  tried  it — it  fitted  the  rusty 
old  lock  perfectly !  Hiding  the  key  away  as  care- 
fully as  I  ever  hid  any  stolen  diamonds,  I  waited 
impatiently  for  the  night  set  for  my  escape. 

It  came  at  last.  Between  6  and  7  o'clock  was  the 
hour,  because  then  my  household  duties  frequently 
took  me  into  the  vicinity  of  the  basement  door.  It 
was  a  crisp  December  evening.  It  had  snowed  heav- 
ily all  day,  and  it  was  still  snowing  and  was  grow- 
ing colder. 

About  6 :30  I  heard  a  peculiar  low  whistle.  That 
was  the  signal  that  the  pair  of  horses  and  the  sleigh 
which  were  to  carry  me  away  were  waiting  outside. 

There  was,  of  course,  no  opportunity  to  get  my 
hat  and  coat.  Luckily  I  was  all  alone  in  the  lower 
house — upstairs  I  could  hear  the  matron  and  her 
family  laughing  and  talking  over  their  dinner. 

Putting  down  the  tray  of  dishes  I  was  carrying  I 
snatched  the  key  from  its  hiding  place  under  a  flour 
barrel  and  hurried  noiselessly  along  the  dark  pas- 
sageway to  the  door  that  led  to  liberty. 

My  heart  was   thumping  with  excitement — my 


74  SOPHIE  LYONS 

fingers  were  trembling  so  that  I  could  hardly  find 
the  keyhole.  It  seemed  ages  before  the  lock  turned 
and  I  stepped  out  into  the  cold  winter  night. 

Although  every  second  was  precious,  I  took  the 
time  to  close  the  door  behind  me  and  lock  it.  By 
ithus  concealing  the  way  I  had  gone  I  would  delay 
pry  pursuers  just  so  much. 

From  an  open  window  above  me  floated  the  voice 
of  one  of  the  matron's  little  daughters  as  I  picked 
my  way  through  the  snow,  bareheaded  and  with 
house  slippers,  avoiding  the  regular  path. 

"Mamma,"  she  was  saying;  "why  doesn't  Sophie 
bring  the  rest  of  my  dinner  V 

"She'll  bring  it  in  a  minute,"  the  mother  replied. 

I  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief — quite  evidently  my  ab- 
sence had  not  yet  caused  any  suspicion. 

Hurling  the  key  into  a  snowdrift,  I  ran  to  the 
waiting  sleigh.  Ned  was  standing  beside  the  sleigh 
with  a  big  warm  fur  coat  outstretched  in  his  arms. 
Without  a  word  I  slipped  into  the  coat,  hopped  into 
the  sleigh,  and  Ned  gave  the  horses  a  clip  with  the 
whip  and  away  we  dashed  toward  Poughkeepsie. 

The  long  fur  coat  and  stylish  hat  which  Ned  had 
brought  made  me  look  like  anything  but  an  escaped 
convict  After  a  good  warm  supper  at  Poughkeep- 
sie, we  took  the  night  train  for  New  York  and 
[reached  there  safely  the  next  morning. 

And  so  we  were  free! 

But  what  had  we  gained  by  our  escape?  We 
shall  see. 

When  my  husband  first  suggested  his  escape  from 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  75 

Sing  Sing  lie  promised  me  that  if  he  ever  succeeded 
in  getting  out  he  would  give  up  crime  and  turn  to 
some  honest  and  honorable  work.  That  promise 
was  made  while  his  remorse  was  sharpened  by  his 
sudden  change  from  high  living  to  poor  prison  fare, 
and  I  was  now  to  see  how  weak  his  good  intentions 
really  were. 

After  a  few  weeks  in  New  York,  where  we  re- 
ceived the  warm  congratulations  of  many  friends 
on  our  escape  from  Sing  Sing,  we  went  to  Canada 
to  visit  our  children  who  were  in  school  there.  It 
was  not  long  before  our  funds  began  to  get  low.  I 
thought  this  a  favorable  time  to  remind  my  hus- 
band of  his  promises  and  to  urge  him  to  get  some 
honest  employment.    But  he  would  not  listen  to  me. 

1 '  That  would  be  all  very  well  if  I  had  any  money, ' ' 
he  said ;  "but  I  can't  settle  down  until  I  have  enough 
capital  to  give  me  a  decent  start.  Wait  until  I  do 
one  more  good  bank  job  and  then  I  will  think  about 
living  differently. '  7 

AN  EASY  BANK  EOBBEBY 

I  agreed  to  this  reluctantly,  for  I  felt  a  premo- 
nition that  when  this  "one  more  job"  was  finished  , 
we  should  both  find  ourselves  back  in  Sing  Sing, 
again.    And,  as  it  turned  out,  I  was  right. 

It  was  not  altogether  lack  of  money  or  the  desire 
to  live  a  decent  life  which  made  me  plead  with  Ned 
to  reform.  The  fact  that  there  was  a  reward  on 
both  our  heads  and  that  at  any  minute  some  am 


76  SOPHIE  LYONS 

bitioua  detective  was  liable  to  recognize  us  was  be- 
ginning to  tell  on  my  nerves.  Ned  used  to  try  to 
laugh  my  fears  away  by  saying  that  I  saw  police- 
men in  my  sleep.  Probably  I  did — at  any  rate,  I 
know  that  for  months,  asleep  or  awake,  I  would 
jump  at  the  slightest  sound,  thinking  it  was  an  offi- 
cer come  to  take  us  back  to  Sing  Sing.  We  could 
not  live  natural  lives  but  had  to  be  constantly  dodg- 
ing about,  and  occasionally  running  to  cover  for  long 
intervals. 

The  "one  more  job"  my  husband  had  in  mind 
was  the  robbery  of  a  Montreal  bank.  He  looked 
the  ground  over,  found  it  to  his  liking,  and  then  sent 
for  a  friend  of  ours,  Dave  Cummings,  an  experi- 
enced bank  robber,  to  come  on  from  New  York  and 
help  us. 

It  was  really  a  very  simple  undertaking  for  three 
such  expert  criminals  as  we  were.  My  part  of  it 
was  merely  to  stand  in  the  shadow  of  an  alley  and 
watch  for  the  possible  return  of  one  of  the  bank's 
two  watchmen.  There  was  small  chance  of  his  put- 
ting in  an  appearance,  for  my  husband  had  previ- 
ously cultivated  his  acquaintance,  and  on  this  par- 
ticular evening  had  been  plying  him  with  mugs  of 
ale  until  he  had  left  him  fast  asleep  in  a  nearby 
saloon. 

Inside  the  bank  there  was  a  second  watchman. 
iHe  was  an  old  man,  but  when  he  discovered  Ned  and 
Dave  crawling  through  the  rear  window,  which  they 
had  opened  with  their  jimmies,  he  put  up  such  a 
stiff  fight  that  they  had  all  they  could  do  to  stua 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  77 

him  with  a  blow  on  the  head,  stuff  a  handkerchief 
down  his  throat,  and  tie  his  hands  and  feet  with  a 
piece  of  rope.  As  it  was,  they  made  so  much  noise 
that  I  nearly  had  nervous  prostration  in  the  alley 
where  I  was  crouching  half  a  block  away. 

"I  think  I'd  better  keep  an  eye  on  this  old  chap 
while  you  get  the  coin,  Dave,"  my  husband  said, 
ruefully  rubbing  a  bruised  cheek  he  had  received 
in  the  tussle  with  the  faithful  guardian  of  the  bank. 

So,  as  a  matter  of  precaution,  my  husband 
mounted  guard  with  his  revolver  over  the  watch- 
man, while  Dave  solved  the  combination  of  the  safe. 
Nothing  further  happened  to  interfere  with  our 
plans  and  by  daybreak  we  were  well  on  our  way  to- 
ward the  Canadian  border. 

We  had  expected  to  get  at  least  $30,000  from 
this  robbery,  but  when  we  came  to  empty  the  satchel 
in  which  Dave  had  placed  the  plunder,  we  found 
there  was  not  quite  half  that  amount.  It  was  all 
Dave's  fault,  as  we  learned  later  from  the  news- 
papers. He  had  carelessly  overlooked  a  bundle  of 
currency  containing  $25,000.  I  had  always  consid- 
ered Dave  Cummings  a  thoroughly  careful  and  re- 
liable man,  but  this  expensive  oversight  of  his  rather 
shook  my  confidence  in  him. 

!  My  husband  and  I  returned  to  New  York  with 
our  share  of  the  booty.  There,  a  few  days  later, 
we  were  arrested,  but  not  for  the  bank  robbery  in 
Montreal.  The  detectives  who  had  been  searching 
for  us  ever  since  our  escape  from  Sing  Sing  had 


78  SOPHIE  LYONS 

•found  our  hiding  place  at  last,  and  they  took  us 
back  to  prison  to  serve  out  our  terms. 

In  our  prison  cells,  once  more,  we  had  ample  op- 
portunity to  consider  how  fruitless  of  results  our 
escape  had  been.  For  all  the  risks  we  had  run  in 
getting  out  and  for  all  the  worrisome  months  we  had 
spent  in  dodging  detectives  we  had  nothing  to  show 
except  the  fleeting  satisfaction  of  a  few  days  with 
our  children.    What  had  we  gained?    Nothing. 

HOW  BULLARD  GOT  OUT 

A  criminal's  reputation  for  cleverness  among  his 
fellows  depends  very  largely  upon  his  ability  to 
escape — or  to  help  his  friends  to  escape.  Mark 
Shinburn  used  to  take  more  pride  in  the  way  he 
broke  into  the  jail  at  White  Plains,  New  York,  to 
free  Charley  Bullard  and  Ike  Marsh,  two  friends  of 
his,  than  he  did  in  some  of  his  boldest  robberies. 

After  reconnoitering  the  ground  and  carefully 
planning  the  jail  delivery,  Shinburn  and  his  com- 
panion, Eaymond,  put  in  a  hard  nights  work  bur- 
rowing into  the  jail.  They  took  Marsh  and  Bullard 
out,  but  what  was  gained?  Marsh  was  soon  in 
trouble  again  and  Bullard  was  taken  again  and 
ended  his  days  in  prison. 

And  now  one  more  instance — a  very  curious  one. 

Of  all  the  ways  by  which  thieves  have  cheated  the 
law  out  of  its  due,  the  most  ingenious  was  probably 
the  way  "Sheeney  Mike"  brought  about  his  release 
from  the  Massachusetts  State  Prison.    He  feigned 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  79 

illness  so  cleverly  that  the  eminent  physicians  of 
the  State  Medical  Board  pronounced  him  suffering 
from  a  mysterious  and  incurable  disease  and  ord- 
ered his  release  after  he  had  served  only  three  years 
of  his  twelve-year  sentence  for  one  of  his  daring 
burglaries. 

It  was  the  robbery  of  Scott  &  Co.'s  silk  ware- 
house in  Boston  that  sent  "Sheeney  Mike"  to 
Charlestown  Prison,  from  which  he  so  ingeniously 
escaped.  He  discovered  that  the  watchman  was 
vigilant  all  through  the  night  except  between  the 
hours  of  12  and  1  o'clock,  when  he  went  out  to  get 
something  to  eat.  Mike  secured  a  false  key  whicl 
unlocked  a  door  to  the  warehouse,  and  arranged  for 
two  trucks  to  be  on  hand  at  a  few  minutes  past  12 
one  night. 

When  the  truckmen  arrived  they  found  Mike  at 
the  door  of  the  warehouse  coolly  smoking  a  cigar. 
Quite  naturally  they  thought  he  was  the  proprietor. 
After  helping  the  men  to  load  the  trucks  with  $20,- 
000  worth  of  expensive  silks,  "Sheeney  Mike" 
turned  out  the  lights,  locked  the  door,  and  drove 
away  to  Medford,  a  suburb  of  Boston,  where  the 
goods  were  unloaded. 

Before  Mike  found  an  opportunity  to  ship  hif 
plunder  to  New  York  he  was  arrested,  found  guilt] 
and  sentenced  to  fifteen  years  in  prison. 

He  tried  every  means  of  escape  he  could  think 
of  without  avail.  At  last,  in  his  desperation  to  get 
out,  he  began  drinking  large  quantities  of  strong 
soap  suds.    This  made  him  deathly  sick  and  unable 


80  SOPHIE  LYONS 

to  retain  any  nourishment.  His  sufferings  became 
so  intense  that  he  had  to  be  removed  from  his  cell 
to  the  prison  hospital. 

In  the  prison  hospital  the  doctor  in  charge  began 
i  watching  his  patient  to  be  sure  that  some  trick  was 
not  being  played  on  him.  A  careful  examination 
of  Mike  revealed  no  organic  trouble — the  doctor 
could  find  no  reason  for  the  strange  symptoms.  And 
yet  right  in  front  of  his  eyes  Mike  would  be  taken 
with  violent  pains  in  the  stomach,  followed  by  vom- 
iting. 

The  prison  doctor  was  worried.  He  gave  stomach 
tonics.  Still  the  spasms  and  nausea  continued.  He 
put  his  patient  on  a  cereal  diet — but  his  vomiting 
was  not  lessened.  He  changed  the  diet;  he  gave 
beef  juice ;  he  changed  it  to  milk  and  brandy — noth- 
ing brought  relief. 

The  prison  doetor  was  worried.  Here  was  this 
once  vigorous  man  wasting  away  to  a  pallid  skele- 
ton in  spite  of  his  best  efforts.  The  doctor  was  a 
eonscientious  man  and  he  called  a  consultation  of 
two  outside  physicians  at  his  own  expense.  They 
patiently  went  over  the  record  of  the  case  and  ex- 
amined "Sheeney  Mike"  minutely — there  was  noth- 
ing to  account  for  the  patient's  alarming  condition. 
\  Still,  M  might  possibly  be  this  or  that,  and  so  they 
would  recommend  trying  a  few  things  that  had  not 
yet  been  tried  by  the  prison  doctor. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAEa  81 


"Sheeney  Mike"  thought  that  the  tim«  nad  come 
for  some  new  manifestation  of  his  mysterious  dis- 
ease which  would  still  further  puzzle  and  frighten 
the  doctor,  so,  as  the  new  treatment  of  the  consult- 
ing doctors  was  begun,  Mike  made  preparation  for 
some  new  symptoms.  He  scraped  an  opening  in  his 
right  side  and  each  night  rubbed  salt  and  pepper 
into  it.  He  soon  had  an  angry  looking  inflammation 
which  shortly  produced  a  flow  of  pus.  When  Mike 
had  reached  this  achievement  with  his  sore  he  lan- 
guidly called  the  doctor's  attention  to  it. 

This  new  development  was  enough.  The  doctor 
sadly  shook  his  head.  Things  were  going  from  bad 
to  worse. 

"My  poor  man,"  he  said,  "you  probably  haven't 
&  month  to  live — certainly  not  in  this  prison.  You 
might  improve  if  you  had  your  freedom;  I  don't 
know.  I  am  convinced  that  it  would  be  murder  to 
keep  you  here.  I  shall  at  once  recommend  to  Gov- 
ernor Butler  that  you  be  pardoned.  I  decline  to 
have  your  death  on  my  conscience  any  longer." 

On  the  ground  that  the  patient  could  not  possibly 
live  more  than  a  few  weeks  in  prison  all  three  doc- 
tors solemnly  certified  to  the  Governor  that  "Shee- 
ney  Mike"  was  a  dying  man  and  recommended  im- 
mediate pardon.  Governor  Butler  approved  the 
recommendation,  and  next  day  out  walked  ' '  Sheeney 
Mike"  free,  pardoned  and  restored  to  full  citizen- 


82  SOPHIE  LYONS 

ship.    Soap  suds,  a  little  salt  and  a  sprinkling  of 
pepper  had  opened  the  bars  for  him. 

But  what  did  "Sheeney  Mike"  gain  by  all  this? 
'  Nothing. 

1  He  had  his  freedom  and  a  laugh  on  the  doctors — 
but  his  astonishing  persistence  in  his  soap-sud  poi- 
soning had  so  undermined  his  health  that  he  never 
recovered  his  strength  and  he  finally  died  in  Belle- 
vue  Hospital  in  great  agony  after  a  long  and  pain- 
ful illness. 

And  now  one  more  case — also  unusual  and  re- 
markable. 

Of  course,  the  escape  of  Eddie  Guerin,  a  few  years 
ago  from  Devil 's  Island  surprised  everybody  and 
attracted  a  great  deal  of  attention.  Guerin  is  a 
well-known  thief  who  has  operated  in  England, 
America  and  more  or  less  all  over  Europe.  Guerin, 
with  a  companion,  robbed  a  bank  in  Lyons,  France, 
of  $50,000,  and  a  little  later  stole  $30,000  from  the 
American  Express  Company  in  Paris.  These  two 
jobs  were  too  much  for  the  French  police,  and  they 
grabbed  Guerin. 

Guerin,  traveling  under  the  name  of  Walter  Mil- 
ler, and  assisted  by  an  accomplice,  entered  the 
American  Express  Company's  office  in  Paris  under 
the  pretense  of  transacting  some  business.  The 
other  man  busied  himself  attracting  the  attention  of 
the  agent  while  Guerin  sprang  across  the  counter 
with  a  drawn  pistol.  At  this  moment  the  agent  and 
a  couple  of  clerks  noticed  Guerin's  peculiar  activity, 
but  they  were  unable  to  make  any  outcry  or  move 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  83 

because  Guerin 's  accomplice  kept  the  express  com- 
pany's employees  covered  with  a  couple  of  revolvers. 
Guerin  helped  himself  to  $30,000  which  was  lying 
within  reach  in  an  open  safe,  and  then  the  two 
thieves  coolly  walked  out  the  door. 

Guerin  was  caught  and  convicted  of  the  express 
company  robbery,  and  sentenced  to  fourteen  years' 
imprisonment  in  the  French  penal  colony  on  Devil's 
Island,  off  the  coast  of  South  America.  This  is  the 
place  where  Captain  Dreyfus,  the  French  army  of- 
ficer, was  imprisoned,  and  it  has  been  the  boast  of 
the  French  police  that  nobody  can  escape  from 
Devil's  Island. 

Guerin  had  served  four  years  of  his  sentence  be- 
fore he  succeeded  in  maturing  a  plan  for  escape.  He 
had  the  friendship  of  a  notorious  woman  known  as 
"Chicago  May,"  who  collected  a  fund  in  New  York's 
underworld  and  managed  to  get  the  money  into 
Guerin 's  hands  on  Devil's  Island.  By  the  judicious 
use  of  this  money  Guerin  arranged  for  the  escape 
of  himself  and  two  other  prisoners,  French  convicts, 
whom  he  decided  would  be  helpful  to  him  in  the  jour- 
ney through  the  swamps  and  wildernesses  after  they 
left  the  penal  colony. 

The  prison  officials  who  had  been  reached  by 
j  Guerin 's  fund  arranged  to  have  him  and  his  fellow 
convicts  sent  under  guard  to  the  outermost  part  of 
the  Island,  which  is  a  dense  swamp,  full  of  malaria 
and  poisonous  snakes  and  insects.  The  next  day 
the  guards,  who  had  been  well  paid,  buried  a  dead 
convict  in  the  prison  cemetery,  and  over  the  grave 


U  SOPHIE  LYONS 

they  set  tip  a  headboard  bearing  the  name  "  Eddie 
Guerin."  This  was  to  complete  the  records  of  the 
prison,  and  a  dnly  certified  copy  of  the  prison  rec- 
ord, telling  of  Guerin 's  death  and  burial,  was  for- 
warded to  France. 

This  much  accomplished,  Guerin  and  his  two  com- 
panions were  allowed  to  get  away  from  the  guards 
and  they  were  soon  lost  in  the  swamp.  They  were 
allowed  to  carry  some  tools,  water,  and  provisions. 
While  the  guards  made  a  feeble  and  perfunctory 
search  in  the  swamps  the  three  convicts  set  to  work 
busily  completing  a  boat  and  paddles.  When  these 
were  finished  they  loaded  the  boat  with  their  food 
supplies,  launched  it  and  headed  along  the  South 
American  coast  for  Dutch  Guiana,  the  three  men 
paddling  and  sleeping  by  turns. 

I  have  heard  Guerin 's  own  account  of  his  escape, 
and  I  will  repeat  it  just  as  he  told  it. 

Guerin  was  armed  with  a  revolver  and  cartridges, 
fortunately,  as  otherwise  all  his  planning  would  have 
been  in  vain.  After  a  day  or  two  in  the  boat  he 
noticed  that  his  two  companions  were  growing  very 
chummy.  They  were  astonishingly  willing  to  do  the 
paddling  and  let  him  sleep. 

So  one  night  Guerin  feigned  to  be  asleep  but  kept 
an  eye  and  both  ears  open.  Presently  he  heard  his 
companions  talking  together  in  Spanish,  which  they 
had  no  reason  to  believe  he  understood. 

The  men  whom  he  had  helped  out  of  prison  had 
made  up  their  minds  that  he  had  a  lot  of  money  left. 
They  were  conspiring  to  slit  his  throat  as  he  slept, 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS'  85 

rob  his  body  and  feed  him  to  the  sharks.  The  men 
lost  no  time  in  putting  the  enterprise  into  opera- 
tion. But,  as  they  crept  upon  him,  knives  in  hand, 
they  found  themselves  looking  into  the  muzzle  of  his 
revolver. 

"For  three  days  and  nights,"  Guerin  has  told, 
"I  could  hardly  lower  the  muzzle  of  my  revolver, 
and  for  them  to  stop  paddling  would  mean  only  pro- 
longation of  the  agony  of  our  escape.' 9 

At  last  all  were  so  exhausted  that  they  decided  to 
try  to  rig  a  sail  by  tying  their  shirts  to  an  oar.  A 
breeze  had  sprung  up  and  a  moderately  large  sea 
was  now  endangering  the  craft.  Everywhere  about 
the  boat  were  big  man-eating  sharks.  These  crea- 
tures swam  around  the  boat,  frequently  whirling 
over  on  their  backs  and  snapping  their  jaws  within 
reaching  distance  of  the  little  craft. 

One  of  Guerin  *s  companions  began  to  complain 
about  his  eyes,  and  the  reflection  of  the  fierce  tropi- 
cal sun  on  the  water  had  almost  blinded  all  three 
convicts.  Suddenly  this  man  stood  up  in  the  boat 
and  pressed  his  sun-burned  hands  to  his  eyes.  He 
groped  for  a  moment  about  him  like  a  blind  man, 
and  then  lost  his  balance  and  fell  to  the  side  of  the 
canoe.  The  boat  heeled  over  and  began  to  take 
water  over  the  side  and  Guerin  and  this  companion 
were  thrown  into  the  water.  A  shark  close  by  mad( ' 
a  dash  for  Guerin 's  companion,  and  this  gave  Guerin 
a  chance  to  clamber  back  into  the  canoe,  as  another 
shark  swept  around  the  stern,  narrowly  missing  tike 
American  burglar. 


86  SOPHIE  LYONS 

HORRORS  WORSE  THAN  DEATH 

The  tragic  end  of  one  of  the  party  terrified  Guerin 
and  the  remaining  convict,  and  put  an  end  to  the  con- 
spiracy against  Guerin.  But  the  straining  of  the 
canoe  when  it  had  nearly  upset  and  the  rising  sea 
had  made  the  boat  begin  to  leak.  Guerin  and  his 
fellow  voyager  decided  that  they  could  not  risk  it 
any  longer  in  the  boat,  but  must  make  a  landing  and 
continue  their  journey  through  the  swamps  and 
wildernesses  and  run  the  risk  of  encountering  hostile 
natives. 

After  the  canoe  was  beached  they  hauled  it  up 
on  shore  and  hid  it  among  the  trees  so  as  to  leave 
no  track  in  case  a  searching  party  should  follow 
after  them.  They  had  no  very  definite  idea  of  the 
proper  direction  to  follow — knowing  only  that  they 
were  on  the  wild  coast  of  Dutch  Guiana,  and  must 
travel  inland  several  miles  to  find  a  settlement. 
Both  men  were  as  thin  as  skeletons,  worn  out  with 
bailing  and  paddling  the  leaky  boat,  and  their  scanty 
food  supply  was  scarcely  fit  to  eat.  They  plunged 
haphazard  into  the  tropical  forest  and  swamp.  They 
had  nothing  to  mark  the  time  but  the  sun,  which  was 
sometimes  completely  hidden  by  the  dense  foliage. 
Threading  cautiously  through  the  swamps  and  for- 
ests filled  with  treacherous  death  traps,  they  were 
terrified  and  tortured  by  the  constant  presence  of 
poisonous  snakes  and  venomous  insects  and  lizards. 
Describing  this  trip,  which  lasted  several  days, 
Guerin  said: 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  87 

"After  a  while  we  seemed  to  be  struggling 
through  an  endless  maze,  that  was  leading  in  the 
end  to  nowhere,  and  this  sort  of  thing  went  on  and 
on.  Sometimes  the  undergrowth,  waist  high,  would 
rustle  as  an  invisible  snake  took  flight  before  us. 
The  next  moment  we  would  be  floundering  in  a 
quagmire,  not  knowing  whether  to  go  back  or  to 
the  left  or  to  the  right,  and  conscious  of  sinking 
deeper  with  each  second  of  indecision. 

"With  throbbing  head,  burning  skin,  chattering 
teeth,  aching  and  leaden  limbs,  we  were  inclined  to 
throw  ourselves  down  to  miserably  die,  and  we 
knew  that  the  swamp  fever  was  upon  us." 

Finally,  Guerin  and  his  companion  reached  a  river 
and  concluded  that  they  would  follow  its  bank  in 
the  hope  of  coming  upon  a  native  camp,  where  they 
would  take  chances  of  a  friendly  or  unfriendly  re- 
ception. Before  long  their  bloodshot  eyes  beheld  a 
hut.  As  they  approached  it,  swaying  and  trembling 
from  their  hunger  and  hardships  and  fever,  a  black 
native  emerged  and  set  up  a  shout  which  soon  col- 
lected many  other  blacks  from  neighboring  huts, 
who  rushed  at  them  with  spears. 

Guerin  could  not  understand  their  language,  but 
endeavored  to  explain  to  them  that  they  wanted 
food,  rest,  and  a  guide.  Guerin 's  companion,  in  an 
effort  to  make  plain  their  willingness  to  pay  for 
what  they  wanted,  showed  a  couple  of  francs  in  sil- 
ver. This  was  an  unfortunate  move,  because  it  ex- 
cited the  cupidity  of  the  blacks,  who  promptly  fell 
upon  them  and  searched  them  and  took  away  every- 


88  SOPHIE  LYONS 

thing  they  had  of  value,  after  which  they  were 
pushed  into  a  hut  and  kept  prisoners. 

Sick,  weak,  almost  discouraged,  Guerin  and  his 
companion  managed  to  escape,  and,  stumbling 
through  the  treacherous  morasses,  emerged  in  the 
neighborhood  of  an  Indian  village.  Unlike  the 
blacks,  these  natives  greeted  the  strangers  in  a 
friendly  manner  and  invited  Guerin  and  his  com- 
panion to  stay  with  them  until  they  were  rested 
and  able  to  continue  their  journey.  After  a  few 
days  Guerin  and  the  other  convict  were  given  a 
guide  by  the  Indians  and  he  piloted  them  to  a  sea- 
port, where  they  embarked  on  a  boat  loading  for 
New  Orleans.  From  New  Orleans  Guerin  went 
to  Boston,  and  then  took  passage  for  England,  hop- 
ing to  find  the  woman  he  had  been  in  love  with  when 
he  was  sent  away  to  Devil's  Island.  Guerin  found 
her,  but  she  was  then  the  sweetheart  of  another. 
In  the  row  that  followed  this  woman  and  her  lover 
tried  to  shoot  Guerin. 

And  so  Eddie  Guerin  escaped — but  he  purchased 
his  freedom  at  a  frightful  cost  of  agony  and  ruined 
health. 

Does  crime  pay?  Nobody  will  claim  that  it  does 
if  the  criminal  gets  into  prison.  But  criminals  often 
escape  from  prison,  it  is  urged — what  then?  And 
it  is  to  answer  this  question  that  I  have  endeavored 
to  take  the  public  behind  the  scenes  and  show  them 
the  real  truth  about  a  few  famous  escapes  from  pris- 
on, and  how  the  esoaped  convicts  profited  nothing, 
tout  were,  indeed,  worse  off  than  they  were  before. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAES     89 


CHAPTER  IV 

WOMEN    CRIMINALS    OF    EXTRAORDINARY    ABILITY    WITH 

WHOM  I  WAS  IN  PARTNERSHIP 

f 

Sophie  Lyons,  bank  president — can  you  imagine 
it?  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  actually  held  such  a 
position  in  New  York  City  for  several  months,  and 
the  experience  proved  one  of  the  most  surprising 
in  my  whole  career. 

Although  this  venture  in  high  finance  yielded  me 
only  a  bare  living  and  nearly  landed  me  in  a  prison 
cell,  it  gave  me  a  remarkable  insight  into  the  meth- 
ods used  by  clever  women  to  swindle  the  public,  and 
showed  me  how  these  women  are  able  to  carry 
through  schemes  which  the  most  skillful  men  in  the 
underworld  would  never  dare  undertake. 

All  this  happened  in  the  days  before  I  had  won 
the  wide  reputation  which  my  crimes  later  gave 
me.  I  had  come  to  New  York  with  very  little  money 
and  with  no  definite  plans  for  getting  any — my 
husband  was  serving  a  term  in  prison  and  I  was 
temporarily  alone  and  on  my  own  resources. 

Walking  up  Broadway  one  day,  I  came  face  to 
face  with  Carrie  Morse,  a  woman  I  knew  by  reputa- 
tion as  one  of  the  most  successful  swindlers  in  the 
business.  Friends  of  mine  had  often  pointed  her 
©ut  to  me,  but  we  had  never  been  introduced,  and  I 
had  no  idea  that  she  knew  me. 

I  was,  therefore,  greatly  surprised  when  she 
stepped  up  to  me  and  called  me  by  name : 


90  SOPHIE  LYONS 

"Why,  Sophie  Lyons,  how  do  you  do?"  she  said, 
with  the  well-bred  cordiality  which  was  such  an  im- 
portant part  of  her  stock  in  trade.  "Come  in  and 
have  some  tea  with  me." 

As  we  entered  a  well  known  restaurant  I  noted 
with  envious  eyes  the  evidences  of  prosperity  which 
Carrie  flaunted.  From  the  long  ostrich  plume  which 
drooped  from  her  Parisian  hat  to  the  shiny  tips  of 
her  high-heeled  shoes  she  was  dressed  in  the  height 
of  fashion  and  expense.  At  her  throat  sparkled  a 
valuable  diamond  brooch,  and,  when  she  removed 
her  gloves,  there  flashed  into  view  a  princely  array 
of  rings  which  made  my  own  few  jewels  look  quite 
cheap  and  insignificant. 

WE  PLAN  TO  STABT  A  BANK 

And  yet,  except  for  this  somewhat  too  lavish  dis- 
play of  jewelry,  there  was  nothing  loud  or  over- 
dressed about  her.  It  was  plain  that  she  knew  how 
to  buy  clothes,  and  her  tall,  well-rounded  figure  set 
off  her  stylish  garments  admirably.  In  every  detail 
— her  well  kept  hands,  her  gentle  voice,  her  superb 
complexion,  and  the  dainty  way  she  had  of  wearing 
her  mass  of  chestnut  hair — she  was  the  personifica- 
tion of  luxury  and  refinement.  As  she  looked  that 
;day  Carrie  Morse  would  have  passed  anywhere  with- 
out the  slightest  question  for  the  beautiful  and 
cultured  wife  of  some  millionaire. 

All  these  facts,  which  I  took  in  at  a  glance,  made 
me  less  inclined  to  question  too  closely  the  motives 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  91 

which  had  prompted  her  to  hail  me  as  an  old  friend 
when  we  had  never  had  even  a  speaking  acquaint- 
ance. Quite  evidently  she  had  lots  of  money  or  an 
unlimited  line  of  credit.  How  did  she  get  it?  That 
was  what  I  was  curious  to  find  out.  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  I  would  be  just  as  nice  to  her  as  I  knew, 
how — hoping  that  I  might  learn  from  her  a  new  and' 
easy  road  to  wealth. 

By  the  time  our  tea  was  served  we  were  chatting 
away  like  old  friends. 

" Sophie,' '  she  said,  "I'm  going  to  take  you  into 
my  confidence  and  help  you  make  a  lot  of  money. 
You  and  I  will  start  a  bank." 

"You  mean,  rob  a  bank,  don't  you?"  I  said,  not 
quite  able  to  believe  my  ears. 

"I  mean  nothing  of  the  sort,"  she  said,  setting 
down  her  teacup  with  a  thump.  "You  and  I  will 
start  a  bank.  It  will  be  a  bank  for  ladies  only.  Any 
woman  who  has  a  little  money  saved  up  can  come 
to  us  for  advice.  We  will  take  her  money  and  show 
her  where  she  can  invest  it  so  that  she  will  get 
more  interest  than  she  could  in  any  other  way." 

"But  I  don't  know  anything  about  running  a 
bank, ' '  I  protested.  "  I  'm  Ned  Lyons 's  wife — he  and 
I  are  bank  robbers,  not  bank  owners." 

"That's  all  right,"  she  reassured  me.  "It's  not  4 
necessary  for  you  to  know  anything  about  running! 
banks  in  order  to  hold  the  position  I  have  in  mind. 
All  you  have  to  do  is  to  follow  my  instructions — 
and  you'll  soon  be  wearing  as  many  diamonds  as 
lam." 


92  SOPHIE  LYONS 

A  half  hour  before  I  should  have  thought  it  the 
height  of  absurdity  for  any  one  to  suggest  my  en- 
gaging in  a  wild-cat  banking  scheme  with  Carrie 
Morse.  Yet  now  I  sat  spellbound  by  her  magnetic 
power — patiently  listening  to  details  which  were  all 
\  Greek  to  me  and  getting  from  every  word  she  ut- 
tered renewed  confidence  in  the  reality  of  the  finan- 
cial castles  in  the  air  which  were  to  make  us  both 
millionaires. 

What  a  business  woman  Carrie  Morse  would  have 
made  I  With  her  personal  charms,  her  eloquence, 
and  her  quick  ingenuity  she  had  no  need  to  depend 
on  crime  for  a  living — she  could  have  accumulated 
a  fortune  in  any  legitimate  line  of  work. 


I  ENTEB  "HIGH  FINANCE*1 

The  upshot  of  it  all  was  that  I  agreed  heart  and 
soul  to  Carrie  Morse's  plans  for  taking  a  short  cut 
to  fortune.  First,  she  had  excited  my  avarice  by 
her  stories  of  the  ease  with  which  money  could  be 
made ;  then  she  dazed  me  by  her  apparent  familiar- 
ity with  the  intricacies  of  finance.  At  last  I  became 
as  credulous  as  any  farmer  is  when  he  comes  to  the 
city  to  exchange  a  few  hard  earned  dollars  for  ten 
times  their  value  in  green  goods. 
'  I  accompanied  Carrie  to  the  door  of  her  hotel. 
The  fact  that  she  was  staying  at  the  fashionable 
Brunswick,  while  I  was  finding  it  hard  work  to  raise 
the  price  of  a  room  at  a  modest  hotel  f  arther  down 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAKS  93 

town,  proved  another  argument  in  favor  of  my  fol- 
lowing the  leadership  of  my  new  found  friend. 

"Meet  me  at  9  o'clock  to-morrow/ '  Carrie  had 

said,  "at  No.  West  Twenty-third  street.' '    I 

was  on  hand  a  few  minutes  before  the  appointed 
hour.  The  address  she  had  given  me  was  a  three- 
story  brownstone-front  house  just  beyond  the  busi- 
ness section  of  the  street.  But  I  was  barely  able  to 
see  it  through  the  clouds  of  mortar  dust  raised  by 
a  gang  of  workmen  who  were  busily  engaged  in 
tearing  out  the  whole  front  of  the  building. 

"Yes,  this  is  No. ,"  said  one  of  the  workmen 

to  whom  I  addressed  a  rather  startled  inquiry. 
"We're  making  it  over  into  offices.' '  I  was  con- 
vinced that  I  had  made  a  mistake  in  the  address  and 
was  just  on  the  point  of  turning  away  when  I  saw 
Carrie  Morse  coming  down  the  steps. 

"Good  morning,"  she  called  cheerily.  "This  is 
the  new  bank — or,  rather,  it  will  be  when  these 
workmen  get  it  finished.  And  you,  my  dear,  are  no 
longer  Sophie  Lyons,  but  Mrs.  Celia  Rigsby,  the 
president  of  this  rich  and  prosperous  institution 
for  the  amelioration  of  the  finances  of  the  women 
of  New  York." 

"But,"  I  said,  beginning  now  for  the  first  time 
to  feel  some  doubts  about  the  undertaking  in  which 
I  had  so  suddenly  embarked,  "where  is  all  the  money 
coming  from  to  start  this  bank?" 

"Money?"  said  Carrie,  lowering  her  voice  to  a 
hoarse  whisper.  "Don't  speak  of  that  so  loud — the 
workmen  might  hear  you.    I  've  leased  this  house  and 


94  SOPHIE  LYONS 

I'm  having  all  these  alterations  made  on  credit. 
I  haven't  a  cent  to  my  name — that's  why  I'm  start- 
ing this  bank.  I  need  money  and  this  is  the  easiest 
way  I  know  to  make  it. ' ' 

Carrie's  easy  confidence  allayed  most  of  my  fears 
and  I  forgot  the  rest  when,  from  some  mysterious 
source,  she  produced  money  enough  to  support  me 
in  comparative  luxury  during  the  ten  days  we  had 
to  wait  for  the  bank  to  be  completed.  She  insisted 
that  there  was  absolutely  nothing  for  me  to  do  in 
the  meantime  and  that  she  didn't  want  to  see  me  in 
Twenty-third  street  until  the  bank  was  ready  for 
business. 

I  was  hardly  prepared  for  the  surprises  which  I 
found  when  I  visited  the  bank  on  the  appointed  day. 
Over  the  entrance  hung  a  huge  brass  sign  reading, 
"New  York  Women's  Banking  and  Investment 
Company."  The  entire  front  of  the  building  had 
been  remodeled  into  a  commodious  and  up-to-date 
counting  room.  This  was  lighted  by  two  large  plate 
glass  windows  and  the  entrance  was  through  a  mas- 
sive door  whose  glass  was  protected  by  heavy  bars. 
These  bars  looked  for  all  the  world  like  iron,  but 
Carrie  assured  me  that  they  were  only  wood  covered 
with  tin  and  painted  black. 

Inside  were  all  the  appurtenances  of  a  first-clas6 
banking  establishment — brass  railings,  desks,  coun  * 
ters,  chairs,  and,  in  the  most  conspicuous  position, 
an  enormous  "burglar  proof"  safe.  In  the  rear 
were  partitioned  off  two  little  private  offices,  their 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  95 

doors  labeled  "Mrs.  Celia  Rigsby,  President,' '  and 
"Mrs.  Carrie  Morse,  General  Manager." 

"All  this  quite  took  my  breath  away,  but  what  im- 
pressed me  most  of  all  was  the  sight  of  half  a  dozen 
old  graybeards  who  were  busily  engaged  on  some 
bulky  account  books.  Not  one  of  these  men  could 
have  been  less  than  sixty  years  old  and  all  were  of 
venerable  aspect,  with  spectacles,  white  hair,  and 
long,  white  beards. 

"Why  do  you  hire  such  old  men?"  I  asked  Carrie 
at  the  first  opportunity,  "And  where  do  you  get 
the  money  to  pay  all  of  them?" 

"S-s-sh!"  she  whispered.  "Don't  you  know 
there 's  nothing  that  inspires  people 's  confidence  like 
old  men?  Many  people  who  would  never  trust  their 
money  to  a  young,  active  man  will  gladly  hand  it 
over  to  an  old,  venerable  appearing  fellow.  And 
the  next  best  thing  to  an  old  man  is  a  pretty  woman 
■ — that's  why  I  think  you  and  I  shall  make  such  a 
success  of  this  business.  As  for  paying  these  old 
men,  they  don't  get  a  cent.  They  are  all  working 
for  nothing  in  the  hope  of  getting  a  chance  to  in- 
rest  some  money  in  the  business." 

HOW  WE  FOOLED  THE   PUBLJO 

I  was  so  impressed  by  these  fresh  evidences  of 
Carrie 's  business  ability  and  my  own  ignorance  that 
I  felt  quite  relieved  when  she  informed  me  that  I 
would  not  have  to  remain  at  the  bank,  but  would 
fulfill  my  duties  as  president  at  some  apartments 


96  SOPHIE  LYONS 

she  had  taken  for  me  in  a  fashionable  quarter  or4 
Fifth  avenue.  These  apartments  were  furnished 
in  splendid  style  and  Carrie  handed  me  a  roll  of 
bills  with  which  to  purchase  some  gowns  that  would 
be  in  keeping  with  my  new  home. 

After  my  wardrobe  was  purchased  and  my  trunks 
moved  over  from  the  hotel,  I  was  not  long  in  learn- 
ing just  what  Carrie  expected  of  me.  She  began 
inserting  advertisements  in  all  the  leading  news- 
papers offering  "widows  and  other  women  of 
means' '  investments  which  were  guaranteed  to  net 
them  from  15  to  20  per  cent,  on  their  money. ' ' 

When  women  called  in  answer  to  the  advertise- 
ment at  the  bank  on  Twenty-third  street  many  of 
them  would  want  more  evidence  than  Carrie  could 
supply  before  they  would  part  with  their  money. 
These  doubting  ones  were  referred  to  me — Mrs. 
Celia  Eigsby,  if  you  please,  who  had  made  a  fortune 
by  investing  her  late  husband's  $1,500  insurance 
money  in  the  securities  offered  by  the  Women's 
Banking  and  Investment  Company. 

The  advertisements  were  kept  going  in  the  news- 
papers, and  more  and  more  women  kept  coming  to 
the  bank  on  Twenty-third  street.  Mrs.  Morse  re- 
ceived them  all,  talked  many  of  them  into  leaving 
their  money  with  her  right  then  and  there,  and  to 
those  who  had  misgivings  she  said  sweetly: 

"But  I  would  rather  you  would  not  be  influenced 
by  anything  I  have  said.  It  is  your  duty  to  your- 
self to  investigate  and  assure  yourself  as  to  just 
what  profits  we  are  really  paying  on  investments. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  97 

Perhaps  you  would  like  to  see  and  talk  with  one  of 
our  customers  who  has  done  so  well  with  our  in- 
vestments that  she  has  taken  an  interest  in  our 
bank.  I'm  sure  you'd  be  interested  in  talking  with 
Mrs.  Rigsby." 

The  style  in  which  I  lived  on  Fifth  avenue  left  no 
doubt  of  my  wealth,  and,  with  Carrie 's  help,  I  soon 
had  a  glib  and  convincing  story  to  tell  of  my  previ- 
ous poverty  and  the  steps  I  had  taken  to  reach  my 
present  prosperity. 

Of  course,  I  explained,  I  took  no  active  part  in 
the  bank's  affairs.  I  allowed  the  use  of  my  name 
as  president  and  permitted  Mrs.  Morse  to  refer 
prospective  investors  to  me  merely  because  I  was 
&o  well  satisfied  with  the  way  my  own  investments 
bad  turned  out  and  felt  a  philanthropic  desire  to 
share  my  good  fortune  with  other  women. 

Business  increased  rapidly  and  greater  crowds  of 
women  came  in  reply  to  my  partner's  glowing  ad- 
vertisements. Many  of  them  would  hand  over  their 
money  right  away  in  exchange  for  a  handful  of  the 
crinkly  stock  certificates  which  filled  a  whole  room 
in  the  rear  of  the  bank.  These  certificates  were 
printed  in  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  for,  as  Car- 
rie naively  explained,  "some  of  the  ladies  prefer 
green,  some  blue,  some  black,  and  so  on." 

Carrie  was  jubiliant.  She  kept  me  liberally  sup- 
plied with  money  for  clothes  and  the  heavy  expenses 
of  my  apartment,  but  when  I  asked  her  about  a 
further  share  of  the  profits  she  said: 

"Sophie,  you're  as  ignorant  as  a  new  born  babe 


98  SOPHIE  LYONS 

of  business  methods.  It's  always  customary  to 
leave  all  the  money  in  a  new  business  until  the  end 
of  six  months.  Then  we  '11  divide  what  we  Ve  made, 
turn  the  bank  over  to  someone  else  and  go  to  Eu- 
rope for  a  long  rest." 

I  had  my  doubts  about  the  truth  of  this,  but,  as  I 
was  making  a  good  living  with  little  effort  and  had 
nothing  better  in  sight  just  then,  I  determined  to 
continue  under  Carrie's  leadership.  She  continually 
reassured  me  by  insisting  that  what  we  were  doing 
was  just  as  legitimate  as  any  business  and  that  there 
was  nothing  in  it  for  which  the  police  could  take  us 
to  task. 

Although  I  foolishly  had  confidence  in  Carrie's 
ability  to  keep  out  of  trouble,  I  did  not  for  a  minute 
believe  that  the  securities  she  was  selling  were  worth 
the  paper  they  were  printed  on.  Still,  as  most  of 
the  women  who  called  to  see  me  seemed  to  be  persons 
of  means  who  could  well  afford  to  contribute  toward 
our  support,  I  did  not  feel  any  serious  compunc- 
tions at  advising  them  to  invest.  It  seemed  no  worse 
than  picking  a  rich  man's  pocket  or  robbing  a 
wealthy  bank — and  it  was  not  half  so  difficult  or  so 
hazardous  to  life  and  liberty. 

OUR  BANKING  BUBBLE  BURSTS 

One  day,  however,  something  happened  that  filled 
me  with  honest  indignation  at  Carrie  Morse  and  her 
schemes.  A  poor,  bent  old  widow  called  to  see  me 
— a  woman  whose  threadbare  clothes  and  rough 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  99 

hands  plainly  showed  how  she  had  to  struggle  to 
make  a  living.  Tied  up  in  her  handkerchief  she  had 
$500  which  she  had  just  drawn  from  a  savings  bank. 

"It's  all  I  have  in  the  world/ '  she  said  with  tears 
in  her  eyes,  "and  I've  had  to  scrimp  and  slave  for 
every  cent  of  it.  I  saw  Mrs.  Morse  's  advertisements 
and  IVe  been  to  see  her  this  morning.  She  says  it4 
I'll  give  my  money  to  her  she  can  double  it  for  me 
in  two  years.  Would  I  better  do  it?  I'm  only  a 
poor  old  woman  and  I  want  you  to  give  me  your 
advice  V 

As  diplomatically  as  I  could  I  explained  to  her 
that,  while  Mrs.  Morse's  scheme  was  an  excellent 
one,  it  would  be  much  wiser  for  a  woman  in  her  cir- 
cumstances to  keep  her  money  in  the  savings  bank, 
and  I  made  her  promise  that  she  would  put  it  back 
there  at  once.  Then  I  put  on  my  hat  and  coat  and 
hurried  over  to  the  bank  to  see  Carrie  Morse. 

As  usual  Carrie  was  in  the  midst  of  an  enthusias- 
tic description  of  her  stocks  while  a  long  line  of 
women  anxiously  awaited  their  turn  with  her.  I 
took  her  by  the  arm,  led  her  into  one  of  the  private 
offices,  and  shut  the  door. 

"Carrie  Morse,  this  sort  of  business  has  got  to 
stop,"  I  said  with  all  the  emphasis  I  could.  "I'm 
willing  to  help  you  swindle  women  who  can  afford 
to  lose  the  money,  but  I  positively  will  not  have  any 
part  in  taking  the  bread  out  of  the  mouths  of  poor 
widows  like  the  one  you  just  sent  over  to  see  me. 
Sooner  than  do  that  I'll  starve — or  go  back  to  rob- 
bing banks  or  picking  pockets." 


100  SOPHIE  LYONS 

"There,  there — don't  get  excited,"  she  said  sooth' 
ingly.  "  Perhaps  I  did  make  a  mistake  in  encourage 
ing  the  poor  widow.  But  this  is  a  business  where 
you  can't  help  being  deceived  sometimes.  Often 
the  women  who  plead  poverty  the  hardest  and  dress 
the  poorest  really  have  the  most  money  hidden  away. 
I'll  give  you  my  word  of  honor,  though,  that  I  won't 
accept  any  money  from  that  widow  even  if  she  tries 
to  force  it  on  me." 

Somewhat  mollified  at  this  I  started  back  home  to 
renew  my  interviews  with  the  prospective  investors 
who  came  daily  in  crowds. 

For  several  weeks  things  went  on  as  before.  Then 
one  day  I  chanced  to  meet  the  poor  widow  who  had 
so  excited  my  sympathies.  To  my  surprise  she  con- 
fessed that  she  had  finally  yielded  to  the  lures  of 
Mrs.  Morse's  advertisements  and  had  given  her 
$500  for  some  shares  in  a  bogus  western  oil  com- 
pany. 

I  was  indignant  that  Carrie  should  have  forgot- 
ten her  promise  in  that  way,  and  I  set  out  at  once 
to  demand  an  explanation.  As  I  was  approaching 
the  bank  my  attention  was  attracted  by  some  un- 
usual excitement  just  outside  the  entrance. 

Scenting  trouble  and  thinking  perhaps  it  would 
be  just  as  well  if  I  were  not  recognized  in  that  vi- 
cinity I  slipped  into  a  doorway  across  the  street 
where  I  could  see  what  was  going  on  without  being 
seen. 

Around  the  doors  of  the  bank  surged  a  crowd  of 
several    hundred    very    excited    persons,    mostly 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  l&l 

women.  Among  them  I  recognized  many  of  the 
ladies  whom  I  had  urged  to  invest  in  Carried  se- 
curities. I  also  noticed  our  landlord,  the  contractor 
who  had  altered  the  building,  the  man  who  had  sup- 
plied the  furniture,  a  collector  for  the  gas  company, 
and  numerous  other  creditors  of  the  bank. 

The  doors  of  the  bank  were  closed  and  the  closely 
drawn  shades  revealed  no  sign  of  life  inside.  In 
front  of  the  doors  stood  three  blue-coated  policemen 
vainly  trying  to  keep  the  pushing  crowd  back. 

What  interested  me  most  was  two  Central  Office 
detectives  who  mingled  with  the  crowd  trying  to 
get  some  information  from  the  hysterical  women. 
They  made  slow  progress,  for  the  women  were  too 
excited  to  do  more  than  repeat  over  and  over  again 
the  sad  refrain:  "My  money's  gone!"  But  the 
sight  of  those  plain  clothes  men  showed  me  the 
wisdom  of  getting  out  of  the  way  before  they  had 
time  to  get  too  deep  into  the  cause  of  all  the  trouble. 

Quite  plainly  the  bubble  had  burst.  Some  inves- 
tor had  become  suspicious  and  the  investigation 
which  she  or  her  husband  had  started  had  demol- 
ished the  flimsy  structure  which  Carrie's  vivid  im- 
agination had  reared. 

Bitterly  I  thought  of  Carrie's  treachery  to  me. 
Without  a  word  of  warning  she  had  fled,  leaving  me 
alone  and  almost  penniless  to  face  arrest.  By  now 
she  was  doubtless  on  her  way  to  Europe  or  Canada 
with  all  the  money  in  which  I  should  rightfully  have 
shared. 

There  was  only  one  thing  for  me  to  do — get  away 


102  SOPHIE  LYONS 

from  my  Fifth  avenue  house  before  any  of  the 
women  investors  recovered  enough  of  their  senses 
to  put  the  police  on  my  trail.  Hurriedly  throwing 
a  few  of  my  possessions  into  a  trunk  I  shipped  it  to 
my  friend  Mr.  Rowe's  hotel  and  followed  there  my- 
self on  foot. 

To  Mr.  Eowe  I  poured  out  the  whole  story  of  my 
troubles  and  asked  his  help.  He  was  very  willing 
to  do  all  in  his  power  to  aid  me. 

"It  looks  bad  for  you,  Sophie,"  he  said.  "A  de- 
tective was  here  less  than  fifteen  minutes  ago  in- 
quiring for  you  and  the  chances  are  that  he'll  be 
back  again  before  long.  But  I  can  easily  hide  you 
until  night,  and  then  we'll  try  to  find  some  way  of 
smuggling  you  to  the  station.  I'll  loan  you  what- 
ever money  you  need  and  will  ship  your  trunk  to 
you  when  you  get  to  Detroit. ' ' 

Mr.  Rowe  was  right — the  detective  returned  and 
posted  himself  at  the  front  door  of  the  hotel.  With 
him  came  another  headquarters  man  to  guard  the 
side  entrance.  They  were  evidently  convinced  that 
Sophie  Lyons  was  in  the  hotel  or  that  she  would 
soon  return  there. 

HOW  I  ESCAPED  ARREST 

Night  came  and  the  two  sleuths  showed  no  signs 
of  leaving.  The  only  avenue  of  escape  from  the 
upper  room  where  I  had  been  hiding  all  day  was 
by  the  window. 

With  Mr.  Rowe 's  kind  help  I  securely  fastened  to 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  103 

the  window  frame  one  end  of  a  long  rope,  which  was 
kept  for  use  in  case  of  fire.  Down  this  I  slid  in 
the  darkness  to  the  roof  of  a  one-story  building  ad- 
joining the  hotel.  From  there  it  was  an  easy  drop 
to  a  little  alley,  which  finally  brought  me  out  on 
Broadway. 

;  After  an  agonizing  wait  of  several  minutes  at  the 
station  I  got  safely  on  board  a  train  and  was  soon 
speeding  toward  Detroit.  Then  I  drew  the  first 
long  breath  I  had  taken  since  morning,  when  I  had 
seen  that  tearful  crowd  of  investors  and  creditors 
in  front  of  the  closed  bank. 

Carrie  Morse  was  never  caught  or  punished  for 
the  ladies '  bank  swindle,  which  the  newspapers  later 
said  must  have  netted  her  at  least  $50,000.  Years 
after  I  met  her  in  Chicago  where  she  was  operating 
a  matrimonial  agency  which  was  almost  as  crooked 
as  the  bank  had  been.  She  never  mentioned  our 
banking  venture  nor  offered  me  my  share  of  the 
profits,  and,  as  I  was  prosperous  then,  I  never  asked 
her  for  it. 

She  was  a  swindler  to  her  dying  day  ana  served 
many  long  prison  terms.  As  she  grew  old  it  took 
all  the  money  she  could  make  to  keep  out  of  jail  and 
she  finally  died  in  poverty.  With  all  her  cleverness 
she  never  seemed  able  to  see  what  expensive  folly 
lit  was  to  waste  her  really  brilliant  abilities  in  a  life 
of  crime. 

This  was  my  first  experience  with  clever  women 
swindlers.  I  was  surprised  to  learn,  to  my  sorrow, 
that  the  standards  of  good  faith  which  are  main- 


£04  SOPHIE  LYONS 

tained  among  men  of  the  underworld  do  not  hold 
good  among  most  women  criminals.  I  fully  de- 
termined to  have  no  more  dealings  with  criminals 
of  my  own  sex. 

But  this  wise  resolve  was  broken  quite  by  accident 
a  few  years  later,  while  I  was  traveling  in  the  south 
of  Europe  and  became  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Helen 
Gardner,  an  English  swindler  and  confidence  opera- 
tor. Mrs.  Gardner  was  a  woman  of  fine  presence, 
a  finely  modulated  voice,  all  the  manners,  graces, 
and  charms  of  a  well-bred  English  woman,  and  an 
amazingly  inspiring  and  persuasive  conversational- 
ist. 

In  daring  and  ingenuity  this  remarkable  woman 
surpassed  any  man  I  ever  knew.  Crimes  which  the 
cleverest  men  in  the  underworld  would  have  declared 
impossible  or  too  foolhardy  to  undertake  she  not 
only  attempted,  but  carried  through  to  success. 

For  years  the  boldest  schemes  followed  one  an- 
other in  rapid  succession  from  Mrs.  Gardner's  fer- 
tile brain.  Swindling  was  as  natural  to  her  as 
breathing  is  to  normal  persons.  She  was  the  most 
successful  confidence  woman  who  ever  operated  in 
England  or  on  the  Continent,  and  no  rich  man  was 
safe  once  she  got  her  traps  set  for  him. 

I  first  met  Mrs.  Gardner  in  Nice,  where  I  was 
enjoying  a  little  vacation  after  a  long,  arduous 
bank  robbing  campaign  in  America.  She  was  then 
traveling  under  the  name  of  Lady  Temple. 

To  make  a  long  story  short,  we  soon  became  great 
friends.     We  went  everywhere  together  and  she 


Q0EEN  OF  THE  BUKGLAKS  105 

generously  shared  with  me  the  luxuries  with  which 
she  was  so  plentifully  supplied.  She  finally  even 
induced  me  to  take  rooms  in  the  hotel  adjoining  her 
own  suite. 

I  did  not  know  at  that  time  that  she  was  Mrs. 
Gardner,  the  famous  English  confidence  swindler. 

She  told  me  little  of  her  personal  affairs  except) 
that  her  husband,  Sir  Edward  Temple,  had  been  a 
prominent  physician  in  London  and  that  she  was  in 
Nice  to  recover  from  the  shock  incident  to  his  sudden 
death.  The  deep  mourning  she  habitually  wore  and 
the  heavy  black  band  on  her  visiting  cards  bore  out 
this  story,  but,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  didn't  bother  my 
head  much  about  its  truth  or  falsity. 

I  did  not  at  that  time  happen  to  know  that  it  is 
the  custom  in  England  for  a  doctor's  practice  to  be 
sold  when  he  retires  from  business  or  dies. 

There  was  no  doubt  that  she  had  money  and  that 
she  was  giving  me  a  liberal  share  of  its  benefits — 
why  should  I  worry  about  where  it  came  from  or 
how  long  it  would  last? 

I,  in  turn,  kept  her  in  equal  ignorance  of  my  own 
past  life  and  of  my  means  of  support. 

But  there  was  one  thing  about  which  I  couldn't 
help  being  very  curious — the  number  of  doctors  who 
were  calling  at  the  hotel  to  see  Lady  Temple.  Every 
day  there  was  at  least  one  and  some  days  there  were 
three  or  four — each  came  alone  and  the  same  one 
seldom  appeared  a  second  time. 


106  SOPHIE  LYONS 

mrs.  Gardner's  clever  scheme 

Lady  Temple  invariably  saw  all  of  them.  When 
a  physician's  card  came  np  she  would  ask  me  to 
retire  to  my  own  rooms  and  then  would  be  closeted 
for  a  long  time  with  the  visitor.  It  could  not  be 
professional  calls  these  doctors  were  making,  for 
there  was  nothing  about  her  ladyship's  health  to 
call  for  such  a  varied  assortment  of  medical  atten- 
tion. 

What  could  be  the  meaning  of  all  these  visits  from 
physicians?  My  curiosity  got  the  better  of  me  and 
I  determined  to  do  a  little  eavesdropping. 

My  opportunity  came  when  the  maid  brought  in 
the  card  of  "Dr.  Eobert  Mackenzie,  of  Edinburgh, 
Scotland."  As  usual,  Lady  Temple  said,  "Show 
him  up,"  and  asked  me  if  I  would  be  good  enough 
to  retire.  Instead  of  closing  the  door  which  led 
from  Lady  Temple's  sitting  room  to  my  own  I  left 
it  open  a  trifle  and  stood  there  with  my  ear  to  the 
crack,  where  I  could  hear  every  word  that  was  said 
and  also  get  an  occasional  peep  at  the  lady  and  her 
visitor. 

Dr.  Mackenzie  was  a  grave,  pompous  appearing 
man,  slightly  under  middle  age.  He  was  dressed 
in  the  conventional  garb  of  the  old  school  physician 
and  carried  a  small  medicine  case. 

"I  have  come  to  see  you,  Lady  Temple,"  he  said, 
after  the  usual  polite  preliminaries,  "in  relation  to 
your  advertisement  in  the  current  number  of  the 
Lancet.    Your   late   husband's  practice    seems    to 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  107 

offer  just  the  opportunity  I  have  long  been  seeking 
to  establish  myself  in  London.  May  I  a^k  if  it  is 
still  for  sale!" 

"My  husband  was  a  very  distinguished  man  and 
had  a  very  lucrative  practice/ p  the  bogus  Lady 
Temple  replied.  "You  must  read  these  notices  in 
the  papers  which  were  printed  when  he  died.  Here 
is  one  from  the  London  Times — oh!  my  poor  dear 
husband! " 

At  this  point  Mrs.  Gardner  burst  into  tears.  She 
covered  her  face  with  her  black-bordered  handker- 
chief and  her  charming  figure  shook  convulsively 
with  her  sobs.  Her  visitor,  Dr.  Mackenzie,  stood 
with  head  bowed  in  silent  respect. 

Presently  Mrs.  Gardner  recovered  herself  with 
an  effort,  and,  gazing  appealingly  at  her  visitor 
through  her  tear-stained  eyes,  said: 

1 l  Will  you  pardon  me  ?  I  know  it  is  very  weak  of 
me  to  give  way  to  my  grief  like  this. 

"As  I  was  saying/ '  she  finally  resumed,  "my  hus- 
band was  so  dear  to  me  that  I  cannot  bear  to  think 
of  living  in  London  now  he  is  gone.  That  is  why 
I  am  anxious  to  dispose  of  my  interests  there  at 
once.    Did  you  know  the  late  Sir  Edward,  doctor  f  " 

1 '  I  never  had  the  honor  of  his  acquaintance,  but  I 
have  often  heard  him  lecture,  and  I  have  in  my 
library  all  the  books  he  ever  published.  I  was  al- 
ways a  great  admirer  of  his  abilities.  His  discov- 
eries about  the  circulation  of  the  blood  seem  to  me 
the  most  valuable  recent  contribution  to  medical 
science. " 


108  SOPHIE  LYONS  * — 

"It  pleases  me  to  have  you  say  that,"  said  Lady 
Temple,  warming  into  cordiality  at  this  tribute  to 
her  late  husband.  "I  have  had  many  good  offers 
for  the  practice,  but  none  so  far  from  a  man  such 
as  my  husband  would  have  wished  to  see  succeed 
him.  You  are  a  man  after  Sir  Edward's  own  heart, 
and,  if  you  can  furnish  satisfactory  references,  I 
feel  confident  matters  can  be  arranged  to  our  mu- 
tual satisfaction." 

From  an  inner  pocket  the  doctor  produced  a 
packet  of  letters,  which  he  carefully  unfolded  and 
handed  to  Lady  Temple. 

"Very,  very  satisfactory,"  she  murmured,  after 
studying  them  intently.  ' '  If  my  husband  were  here 
he  would  be  so  gratified  to  see  what  an  able  succes- 
sor I  have  found  for  him.    And  now  as  to  terms." 

The  doctor  did  not  seem  at  all  disturbed  by  this 
abrupt  introduction  of  monetary  considerations. 
Indeed,  he  was  growing  quite  ;merry  under  the 
warming  influence  of  her  ladyship's  bright  smiles. 
These  smiles,  by  the  way,  were  all  the  more  effective 
because  of  their  background  of  widow's  weeds  and 
tear-stained  cheeks. 

"Then  I  may  really  have  the  practice?"  he  asked 
eagerly. 

"Indeed  you  may,"  Lady  Temple  replied.  "The 
price  is  $25,000,  but  I  do  not  want  to  accept  that 
amount  or  sign  the  final  papers  until  I  get  back 
to  London.  My  solicitors,  however,  say  it  will  be 
perfectly  satisfactory  to  give  you  an  option  now, 
provided  you  are  willing  to  pay  just  a  small  amount 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  109 

on  the  purchase  price — say  $1,000.    Is  that  agree- 
able, doctor  f  " 
Agreeable!    Indeed  it  was! 


SWINDLING  ONE  DOCTOB  A  DAY 

The  doctor  counted  out  $1,000  in  crisp  bank  notes. 
Her  ladyship  produced  two  copies  of  an  agreement 
which,  she  said,  her  solicitors  had  prepared,  and 
these  they  both  signed.  Then  she  bade  the  depart- 
ing doctor  an  almost  affectionate  farewell  and  gave 
him  the  most  minute  directions  about  meeting  her 
in  London  a  month  later. 

The  next  day  I  overheard  an  almost  similar  inter- 
view with  a  doctor  from  Glasgow!  The  only  point 
of  difference  was  that  he  paid  $1,200  for  the  option 
instead  of  $1,000. 

There  was  no  necessity  for  further  eavesdrop- 
ping. I  understood  now  why  Lady  Temple  read  all 
the  medical  papers  and  why  so  many  doctors  came 
to  see  her.  No  wonder  we  lived  in  luxury  with  some 
ambitious  doctor  contributing  at  least  $1,000  every 
day  to  our  support! 

I  said  nothing  of  what  I  had  seen  or  heard,  and, 
although  I  continued  to  live  with  Lady  Temple  for 
several  months,  she  never  explained  her  affairs  with 
the  doctors.  This  seems  to  be  a  characteristic  of 
all  women  swindlers — to  deceive  even  their  closest 
friends  and  never  to  tell  any  one  the  whole  truth 
about  their  nefarious  schemes. 

It  was  from  others  that  I  later  learned  the  com- 


110  SOPHIE  LYONS 

plete  details  of  this  swindle.  There  really  had  been 
a  Sir  Edward  Temple,  who  was  a  great  London 
physician. 

Mrs.   Gardner,  learning  of  his  death  from  the 
newspapers,   familiarized  herself  with  his   career 
from   the   obituary  notices,   secured   some   photo-, 
graphs  of  him,  and  began  posing  as  his  widow. 

Her  advertisements  in  the  medical  journals  did 
not  mention  Sir  Edward  by  name,  but  it  was  to  be 
inferred  that  the  practice  offered  for  sale  was  his, 
because  of  his  recent  death  and  because  the  an- 
nouncements were  signed  ' '  Lady  Temple. ' ' 

Doctors  interested  were  invited  to  write  her  at  a 
post  office  box  address.  She  replied  from  Nice, 
where  she  had  "gone  for  her  health,"  and  invited 
them  to  come  there  and  see  her.  What  happened  to 
the  unfortunate  doctors  who  made  the  trip  I  have 
already  told  you. 

The  supply  of  physicians  willing  to  pay  for  an 
option  on  a  London  practice  seemed  inexhaustible 
and  in  a  few  weeks  my  friend  must  easily  have 
cleared  $20,000.  But  she  began  to  tire  of  Nice  and 
invited  me  to  accompany  her  to  London. 

When  we  reached  there  we  went  to  Claridge's,  in 
Mayfair,  and  took  one  of  the  finest  suites  in  that 
exclusive  hotel.  The  morning  after  our  arrival  she 
suggested  a  shopping  expedition. 

To  my  amazement  there  stood  at  the  hotel  door 
waiting  for  us  a  splendid  carriage  drawn  by  u 
prancing  pair  of  horses  in  heavy  silver-plated  har  - 
ness. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS 


111 


On  the  doors  of  the  carriage  was  emblazoned  a 
brilliant  coat  of  arms.    On  the  box  sat  a  pompous 


THERE    STOOD    A    SPLENDID    CARRIAGE    DRAWN    BY    A    PAIR    OP 
PRANCING  HORSES 

coachman  in  livery.    A  liveried  footman  stood  at  at- 
tention ready  to  assist  us. 

I  had  hard  work  to  believe  it  wasn't  all  a  dream 


112  SOPHIE  LYONS 

as  I  settled  back  against  the  soft  silken  cushions 
and  heard  my  friend  order  us  driven  to  Bond  street. 

We  stopped  in  front  of  a  famous  jewelry  store — > 
I  made  ready  to  alight,  but  that,  it  seems,  was  not 
the  plan.  Instead,  her  ladyship  whispered  a  mes- 
sage to  the  footman  and  he  went  into  the  store. 

Out  came  the  proprietor,  a  dignified  old  English- 
•man.    At  sight  of  this  splendid  equipage  with  its 
crests  on  the  door  and  the  two  fine  ladies  inside,  he 
was  all  bows  and  smiles. 

"It  is  not  customary,' '  he  said,  rubbing  his  hands 
in  gleeful  anticipation  of  big  sales  to  come,  "to  let 
our  trays  of  diamonds  go  out  of  the  store,  but  I 
shall  be  glad  to  arrange  it  for  your  lady  ship.' ' 

A  clerk  appeared  carrying  two  trays  full  of  dia- 
mond necklaces,  rings,  and  other  jewelry  which  Lady 
Temple  had  asked  to  see. 

"Have  you  nothing  better  than  these V  said  Lady 
Temple,  rather  contemptuously,  after  a  casual 
glance  at  them. 

The  eager  clerk  hurried  back  to  the  store  and  re- 
turned with  a  tray  of  more  elaborate  specimens  of 
the  jeweler's  art. 

Lady  Temple  leisurely  selected  a  necklace,  two 
rings,  and  a  locket — worth  in  all  more  than  $5,000. 

1 '  Send  these  to  Lady  Temple 's  apartments  at  Cla- 
ridge's,"  she  said,  "and  include  them  in  my  bill] 
the  first  of  next  month.  Doubtless  you  knew  my 
dear  husband,  the  late  Sir  Edward' ' — her  voice 
caught  as  it  always  did  when  she  spoke  his  name — ■ 
"he  had  an  account  here  for  years.' ' 


<$UEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  113 

OUR    EXPERIENCE   IN    LONDON 

The  clerk  smirked  his  gratitude,  promised  prompt 
delivery,  and  we  drove  on  to  a  fashionable  dress- 
maker's. There  we  secured  on  credit,  which  had 
nothing  more  substantial  for  its  basis  than  the  stolen 
crest  our  hired  carriage  bore,  several  costly  gowns. 

This  sort  of  thing  went  on  for  two  weeks.  The 
magic  of  my  friend's  methods  opened  to  us  all  the 
treasures  of  London's  finest  shops.  A  never-ending 
line  of  messengers  brought  to  Claridge's  the  most 
expensive  goods  of  every  description — and  not  a 
penny  of  real  money  was  involved  in  any  of  the 
transactions. 

I  discarded  all  my  old  gowns  and  had  to  get  addi- 
tional trunks  to  hold  the  new  ones.  Soon  I  had  ac- 
cumulated three  or  four  times  as  much  jewelry  as 
I  could  wear  at  one  time.  With  the  prudence  for 
which  I  was  always  famous,  I  put  the  surplus  rings 
and  brooches  in  a  safe  deposit  box. 

All  this  time  you  may  be  sure  I  felt  considerable 
apprehension.  Although  I  took  no  active  part  in 
these  swindling  operations,  I  shared  in  the  plunder, 
and  knew  I  would  be  held  as  an  accomplice  in  case 
there  was  trouble. 

The  trouble  came  sooner  than  I  expected.  We 
had  been  "buying"  some  linens — making  our  selec- 
tions, as  usual,  without  leaving  our  carriage.  Just 
as  we  were  about  to  drive  away  the  clerk  who  had 
taken  our  order  came  rushing  out. 

"Your  ladyship's  pardon,"  he  stammered,  "but 


114  SOPHIE  LYONS 

would  you  please  step  inside  the  store.  The  man- 
ager thinks  there's  some  mistake — that  is,  he 
thought  Lady  Temple  was  in  Egypt.' ' 

I  gave  a  gasp — now  we'd  be  arrested! 

But  my  friend  showed  not  the  slightest  emotion, 
except  a  little  annoyance,  such  as  was  quite  natural 
under  the  circumstances  to  a  lady  of  rank.  She 
calmly  walked  into  the  store — and  I  have  never  laid 
eyes  on  her  since. 

After  waiting  an  hour  I  decided  she  must  have 
escaped  by  a  side  entrance.  I  returned  to  Claridge  's 
and  found  she  had  been  there  before  me.  She  was 
gone,  bag  and  baggage — and  in  a  great  hurry,  as  the 
disorder  of  the  rooms  showed. 

I  lost  no  time  in  arranging  my  own  departure  and 
did  not  feel  safe  until  I  was  well  on  my  way  to  New 
York  with  my  trunks  full  of  more  finery  than  I  had 
ever  possessed. 

Two  or  three  years  later  Helen  Gardner,  alias 
Lady  Temple,  was  convicted  in  France  for  obtaining 
money  under  false  pretenses.  Her  prison  term 
brought  her  to  her  senses — showed  her  how  foolish 
it  was  to  waste  her  life  in  crime.  When  she  was  re- 
leased she  settled  down  to  an  honest  career  and  later 
became  the  wife  of  a  prosperous  merchant. 

The  account  of  my  experiences  with  famous  woul 
en  swindlers  would  not  be  complete  without  some 
mention  of  the  greatest  of  them  all — the  notorious 
Ellen  Peek,  long  known  as  the  "Confidence  Queen.' ' 

Mrs.  Peck's  exploits  during  the  many  years  when 
ahe   defrauded   everybody   who    came  within   her 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  115 

reach  would  fill  a  book.  One  swindle  would  hardly 
be  finished  before  another  would  be  begun,  and 
often  she  would  have  several  entirely  different 
schemes  under  way  at  once. 

She  paid  her  lawyers  several  fortunes  in  her  per- 
sistent efforts  to  keep  out  of  jail  and  to  retain 
possession  of  the  property  she  had  stolen.  At  one 
time,  when  she  was  in  her  prime,  she  was  defendant 
in  twenty-eight  civil  and  criminal  suits. 

One  of  Ellen  Peck's  many  peculiarities  was  her 
fondness  for  practicing  her  skilful  arts  on  her  fel- 
low criminals.  She  found  more  satisfaction  in 
cheating  a  thief  out  of  a  ten-dollar  bill  than  in  de- 
frauding some  banker  of  $1,000. 

Even  I,  trained  in  crime  from  childhood,  was  not 
proof  against  Ellen's  wiles.  Several  times  I  be- 
came her  victim  as  completely  as  I  did  Carrie 
Morse's — and  I  can  vouch  for  the  fact  that  no 
shrewder  fox  ever  lived. 

Each  time  she  tricked  me  I  would  make  a  solemn 
vow  never  to  have  anything  to  do  with  her  again. 
Then  along  she  would  come  with  some  story,  oh,  so 
plausible! — and  I  would  swallow  it  as  readily  as  I 
had  the  previous  one  and  as  much  to  my  sorrow. 

Once  she  actually  cheated  me  out  of  the  very 
shawl  on  my  back.  It  was  a  fine  cashmere  shawl — 
one  I  had  secured  in  Europe  at  a  great  bargain. 

1 '  Come, ' '  said  Ellen,  ' '  let  me  have  that  shawl.  I 
know  a  rich  woman  who  will  give  you  $500  for  it." 

"No,"  I  said,  grimly,  "1  don't  want  to  sell  it." 
But  Ellen  turned  her  hypnotic  eye  on  me,  began  her 


116  SOPHIE  LYONS 

irresistible  flow  of  smooth  argument  and — got  the 
shawl. 

That  was  the  last  I  saw  of  her  for  six  months. 
When  I  did  succeed  in  running  her  down  she  said 
she  had  been  able  to  get  only  $100  for  the  shawl — 
and  she  had  left  that  at  home  on  the  sideboard! 

Grabbing  her  by  the  arm  I  told  her  I  would  not 
let  her  go  until  she  gave  me  what  money  she  had. 
After  considerable  argument  she  emptied  $37.50 
out  of  her  purse — which  was  all  I  ever  got  for  my 
$500  shawl. 

Ellen  Peck  conceived  a  very  simple  scheme  of 
piano  swindling,  and  I  was  in  partnership  with  her 
in  it.  She  had  been  working  this  swindle  alone  until 
she  had  become  known  to  all  the  piano  dealers.  Then 
she  invited  me  to  join  her.  Here  is  how  we  man- 
aged it: 

I  would  go  to  a  store  and  buy  a  piano  on  the  in- 
stallment plan,  paying  five  or  ten  dollars  down. 
The  instrument  would  be  delivered  at  some  one  of 
the  twenty  furnished  rooms  which  Ellen  had  en- 
gaged for  just  this  purpose  in  various  parts  of  the 
city. 

As  soon  as  the  piano  was  installed  at  one  of 
these  rooms  we  would  promptly  advertise  it  for  sale 
at  a  greatly  reduced  price.  If  the  first  purchaser 
did  not  move  the  piano  at  once  we  would  sometimes 
be  able  to  sell  the  same  instrument  to  five  or  six 
different  persons.  When  we  had  squeezed  as  much 
money  as  we  could  out  of  a  piano  we  would  disap- 
pear — only  to  repeat  the  same  trick  at  another  fur- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BUEGLARS  117 

aished  room  and  with  a  piano  from  another  store. 

It  sometimes  happened  that,  when  the  several 
persons  to  whom  we  had  sold  a  single  piano  came  to 
claim  it,  the  merchant  from  whom  we  had  secured  it 
and  to  whom  it  still  belonged  would  also  put  in  an 
appearance.  Then  there  would  be  the  liveliest  kind 
of  a  squabble,  which  would  have  to  be  settled  in  the 
courts. 

Crafty  Ellen  Peck  supplied  the  brains  for  this 
enterprise  but  made  me  do  most  of  the  hard  work 
and  gave  me  only  a  meager  share  of  the  profits.  It 
was  a  despicable  swindle,  for  the  loss  did  not  fall 
on  the  dealer,  but  on  the  poor  families  to  whom  we 
sold  the  pianos  and  who  could  ill  afford  the  money 
we  took  from  them.  I  am  thankful  to  say  that  I  did 
not  long  make  my  living  in  this  mean  way. 

I  hope  that  Ellen  Peck  may  be  alive  to  read  these 
lines.  In  her  declining  years  wisdom  and  charity 
have  doubtless  come  to  her  just  as  they  have  to  me. 
I  feel  sure  that  she  shares  my  sincere  repentance 
for  past  errors,  and  that  she  will  give  me  her  hearty 
indorsement  when  I  say,  as  I  constantly  do,  that  un- 
der no  circumstances  does  crime  pay. 


118  SOPHIE  LYONS 


CHAPTER  V 

HOW  I  FACED  DEATH,  HOW  MY  HUSBAND  WAS  SHOT,  AND 
SOME   NARROW  ESCAPES   OP  MY   COMPANIONS 

From  the  moment  when  he  commits  his  first  crime 
the  professional  criminal  never  knows  what  it  is  to 
enjoy  real  peace  of  mind.  His  crimes  hang  over 
him  like  the  sword  of  Damocles,  and,  unless  he  re- 
forms, he  can  never  be  free  from  the  fear  of  some 
day  being  found  out  and  sent  away  to  prison  for  a 
long  term. 

And  arrest  is  not  the  only  thing  he  has  to  fear — 
he  is  continually  face  to  face  with  the  danger  of 
serious  injury  or  death.  Whatever  the  crime  he 
undertakes,  he  must  run  the  most  desperate  risks— ^ 
He  has  to  stake  not  only  his  liberty,  but  life  itself 
on  the  narrowest  of  margins. 

The  powerful  explosive  he  is  using  to  blow  open 
a  safe  may  go  off  prematurely,  as  it  did  one  night 
when  George  Mason  and  I  were  robbing  a  bank  in 
Illinois,  and  leave  the  robber  half  dead. 

Perhaps  an  indignant  mob  may  decide  to  take 
justice  into  its  own  hands  by  lynching  the  criminal. 
This  is  what  happened  to  one  of  my  comrades  in 
Kentucky.  They  had  the  noose  around  his  neck 
and  were  all  ready  to  string  him  up  when  I  arrived 
in  the  nick  of  time  to  save  his  life. 

Perhaps  he  will  be  caught  in  the  act  at  one  of 
his  crimes  and  shot  down  like  a  dog,  as  my  husband, 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  i» 

Ned  Lyons,  was  in  Connecticut  one  night.  That  wag 
the  narrowest  escape  my  husband  ever  had — I  saw 
it  with  my  own  eyes,  and,  if  I  live  to  be  a  hundred, 
I  shall  never  forget  the  agony  of  it  all. 

At  the  time  of  this  thrilling  adventure  the  police 
wanted  us  so  badly  for  our  share  in  several  famous 
jrobberies  that  Ned  and  I  did  not  dare  to  undertake 
any  operations  in  the  large  cities  which  usually 
formed  our  most  profitable  fields.  So,  being  in  need 
of  ready  money,  we  had  decided  to  take  a  little  trip 
through  some  of  the  smaller  towns  of  New  England. 
The  amount  of  cash  to  be  had  from  the  banks,  stores 
and  postoffices  in  these  places  was  not  large,  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  it  was  not  hard  to  get  and  we 
thought  we  ought  to  be  able  to  spend  two  or  three 
weeks  quite  profitably  in  the  nearby  towns  of  Con- 
necticut and  Massachusetts. 

As  my  health  that  summer  was  not  very  good  and 
Ned  did  not  want  me  to  take  any  very  active  part 
in  the  robberies,  we  invited  George  Mason  to  go 
along  with  us. 

From  the  start  we  seemed  to  be  ill-fated.  Ned 
and  George  succeeded  in  getting  into  a  bank  in 
Fitchburg,  Mass.,  but  were  frightened  away  by  a 
watchman  before  they  had  time  to  open  the  safe. 
From  the  postoffice  in  a  little  village  just  outside 
Fitchburg  we  secured  only  eight  or  ten  dollars  to 
pay  us  for  our  trouble.  Quite  discouraged  and  des- 
perately in  need  of  money  we  went  on  to  Palmer, 
Mass. 

There  I  scouted  around  and  discovered  that  the 


120  SOPHIE  LYONS 

most  likely  place  for  us  to  rob  was  G.  L.  Hitchcock's 
drug  store,  which  was  also  the  village  postoffice. 
A  storm  came  up  to  hide  the  full  moon,  and  this  en- 
abled us  to  make  the  attempt  that  very  night.  It 
was  not  the  easiest  job  in  the  world,  for  Mr.  Hitch- 
cock and  his  family  lived  directly  above  the  store 
and  the  least  noise  was  sure  to  rouse  them. 


HOW  WE  BOBBED  A  STOEE 

Shortly  after  midnight  I  took  up  my  position  in 
an  alley  in  the  rear  of  the  store  to  stand  guard  while 
Ned  and  George  removed  a  pane  of  glass  from  a 
cellar  window.  Through  this  opening  the  men 
squeezed,  and  presently  the  dim  reflection  of  their 
dark  lanterns  showed  me  that  they  had  safely 
reached  the  store  above. 

I  had  been  standing  there  in  the  rain  for  nearly 
twenty  minutes  when  a  low  rumble  from  inside  the 
store  made  me  prick  up  my  ears.  Just  as  I  was 
puckering  my  lips  to  whistle  a  shrill  warning  to  my 
comrades  I  saw  them  appear  at  the  back  door  of  the 
store  carrying  between  them  a  small  iron  safe.  It 
was  this  safe  rolling  over  the  floor  which  I  had 
heard. 

The  safe  was  a  small  affair,  but  so  well  made  that 
it  had  successfully  resisted  all  their  efforts  to  drillj 
it  open.  Finding  it  was  not  too  heavy  to  be  carried 
they  had  decided  to  take  it  outside  the  town,  where 
they  could  blow  it  open  without  fear  of  arousing  the 
sleeping  village. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  121 

We  must  have  made  a  strange  procession  as  we 
drudged  along  through  the  darkness — the  two  men 
partly  carrying  and  partly  rolling  the  safe  along, 
and  all  of  us  wading  through  mud  half  way  to  our 
knees. 

At  last  we  reached  a  meadow  far  enough  removed 
from  any  houses  for  our  purpose.  George  Mason? 
filled  one  of  the  holes  he  had  drilled  with  black  pow- 
der and  wrapped  the  safe  with  some  old  sacks  to 
protect  the  fuse  from  the  wet  and  also  to  muffle 
the  noise  of  the  explosion. 

Ned  touched  a  match  to  the  fuse  and  we  scurried 
to  a  safe  distance.  The  charge  went  off  with  a  dull 
boom — the  shattered  door  of  the  safe  flew  high  into 
the  air  and  landed  several  yards  away. 

Waiting  a  few  minutes  to  make  sure  that  no  one 
in  the  village  had  been  awakened,  we  hurried  back 
to  get  our  plunder.  There  were  $350  in  cash,  a  dia- 
mond ring,  some  gold  pens,  and  fifteen  or  twenty 
dollars'  worth  of  postage  stamps.  With  the  few 
dollars  the  boys  had  taken  from  the  till  this  made  a 
trifle  more  than  four  hundred  dollars  for  our  night's 
work — a  pitifully  small  sum  compared  with  what 
some  of  our  bank  robberies  brought  us,  but  enough 
to  support  us  until  we  could  plan  some  more  ambi- 
tious undertaking. 

Just  as  we  were  dividing  our  plunder  into  three  j 
equal  shares  a  freight  train  whistled  in  the  dis- 
tance. 

"George  and  I  will  jump  on  this  train,"  said  my 
husband,  giving  me  a  hurried  kiss.    "It's  safer  than 


122  SOPHIE  LYONS 

for  the  three  of  us  to  stick  together.  Good-bye— 
and  take  care  of  yourself.  We'll  meet  you  in  South 
Windham,  Conn.,  late  to-night  or  early  to-morrow." 
Wet,  bedraggled,  and  so  tired  that  I  could  have 
fallen  asleep  standing  up,  I  groped  my  way  to  the 
railroad  station  and  curled  myself  up  on  a  bench 
to  snatch  what  rest  I  could.  Just  before  daybreak 
a  milk  train  came  along.  I  boarded  this  and  trav- 
eled by  a  roundabout  route  to  South  Windham. 

MY   HUSBAND   IS    SHOT 

I  reached  there  late  in  the  afternoon  and  went 
straight  to  the  postoffice.  This  was  always  the  ac- 
cepted rendezvous  for  professional  criminals  when 
no  other  place  had  been  agreed  upon.  Detectives 
in  every  city  might  very  profitably  spend  more  of 
their  time  watching  the  postofiice,  for  wherever  the 
criminal  is  he  makes  a  point  of  calling  there  at  leaut 
once  every  twenty-four  hours  to  keep  appointments 
with  his  friends  or  in  the  hope  of  running  across 
lome  acquaintance. 

Ned  and  George  were  there  waiting  for  me,  and 
mighty  glad  they  were  to  see  me,  for  they  had  heard 
vague  rumors  of  a  woman  having  been  arrested  on 
suspicion  that  she  knew  something  about  the  Pal- 
mer robbery. 

{  The  best  opportunity  the  sleepy  little  town  af- 
forded seemed  to  be  a  general  store  run  by  a  man 
named  Johnson.  I  dropped  in  there  late  one  even- 
ing, and,  on  the  pretext  of  buying  a  crochet  hook, 


QUEEN  OP  THE  BURGLARS  123 

saw  the  old  proprietor  locking  the  day's  receipts — 
quite  a  respectable  bundle  of  money — in  a  ram- 
shackle safe  which  offered  about  as  much  security  as 
a  cheese  box. 

We  got  everything  in  readiness  to  break  into  the 
store  the  following  night.  It  was  a  foolhardy  time 
for  such  a  job,  as  there  was  a  bright  moon — but  we 
were  hungry  for  money,  and  one  more  good  haul 
would  supply  enough  to  keep  us  in  comfort  until 
we  could  lay  our  plans  for  some  robbery  really 
worthy  of  our  skill. 

There  was  really  little  I  could  do  to  help  the  men, 
but  1  could  not  bear  to  be  left  behind.  Just  after 
midnight  I  stole  out  of  the  railroad  station,  where 
I  had  been  waiting  ostensibly  for  the  night  train  to 
New  York,  and  hid  myself  in  the  doorway  of  a 
livery  stable,  where  I  had  a  good  view  of  the  store 
we  were  going  to  rob. 

Pretty  soon  I  saw  my  two  comrades  come  cau- 
tiously down  the  main  street  from  opposite  direc- 
tions. They  met  underneath  a  window  of  the  store 
on  the  side  which  was  in  the  dark  shadow  of  a  tree. 

The  window  was  so  high  above  the  ground  that 
my  husband  had  to  climb  up  on  George  Mason's 
shoulders  to  reach  it.  I  could  hear  the  gentle  rasp 
of  his  jimmy  as  it  worked  against  the  fastenings. 

At  last  he  raised  the  sash  gently  and  stepped  into 
the  store.  Then  he  leaned  far  out  across  the  sill 
and  stretched  his  brawny  arms  down  toward  Lis 
companion. 

Mason  gave  a  leap,  caught  hold  of  Ned's  wrists, 


124  SOPHIE  LYONS 

and,  with  the  agility  of  a  circus  performer,  swung 
himself  up  into  the  window. 

All  was  as  silent  as  the  grave.  The  only  sign  of 
life  I  could  see  in  the  peaceful  street  were  two  cats 
enjoying  a  nocturnal  gambol  on  a  nearby  piazza 
roof.  I  shivered  for  fear  they  might  start  yowling 
and  awaken  somebody  to  spoil  our  plans. 

Just  at  that  instant  one  of  the  cats  upset  a  flower 
pot  which  stood  at  a  window  opening  on  the  porch 
roof.  To  my  horror  that  pot  went  rolling  down  the 
roof  with  a  tremendous  clatter,  hung  suspended  for 
a  second  on  the  eaves,  then  fell  to  the  stone  steps 
with  a  crash  that  woke  the  echoes. 

At  once  the  whole  town  awoke.  In  every  direction 
I  could  hear  windows  being  thrown  open,  children 
crying,  and  sleepy  voices  asking  what  the  trouble 
was. 

At  a  window  directly  over  the  store  where  my 
two  friends  were  a  night-capped  head  appeared  and 
a  frightened  woman  screamed,  "Help!  Burglars !" 
at  the  top  of  her  lungs. 

That  completed  the  havoc  which  the  playful  oats 
and  the  flower  pot  had  begun.  From  every  house 
half-dressed  men  armed  with  rifles,  shotguns,  and 
all  sorts  of  weapons  poured  into  the  street. 

All  this  racket  had  started  too  suddenly  for  me 

to  give  Ned  and  George  any  warning.    I  could  only 

'  crouch  farther  back  in  the  shadow  of  my  doorway 

and  trust  to  Providence  that  the  villagers  would 

overlook  me  in  their  excitement. 

"There  goes  the  burglar  now!"  some  one  shouted, 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BUKGLAKS  125 

and  just  then  I  saw  my  husband  dash  past  my  hid- 
ing place  so  close  that  I  could  have  touched  him. 
He  was  headed  for  the  open  country  beyond  the 
railroad  tracks  and  was  running  faster  than  I  had 
ever  supposed  a  man  of  his  weight  could. 

"Stop,  or  I'll  shoot !"  yelled  an  old  white-whisk- 
ered farmer,  who  stood,  rifle  in  hand,  not  a  dozen 
yards  away. 

But  Ned,  if  he  heard  the  command,  made  no  move 
to  obey.  Instead,  he  only  ran  all  the  faster,  hunch- 
ing his  head  down  between  his  shoulders  and  zig- 
zagging back  and  forth  across  the  road  as  if  to 
make  his  bulky  form  a  less  favorable  target. 

The  old  farmer  raised  his  rifle  as  deliberately  as 
if  he  had  been  aiming  at  a  squirrel  instead  of  a 
fellow  man.  Three  shots  blazed  out  in  rapid  suc- 
cession. 

The  first  shot  went  wild.  At  the  second  my  hus- 
band stumbled.  At  the  third  he  threw  up  his  hands 
and  pitched  forward  headlong  in  the  road. 

"We've  got  him!,,  the  crowd  shouted  with  what 
seemed  to  me  fiendish  glee,  and  rushed  up  to  where 
Ned's  body  lay  in  a  quivering,  bloody  heap. 

I  supposed  he  was  dead,  but,  whether  dead  or 
alive,  I  knew  there  was  nothing  I  could  do  to  aid 
him.  Nervous  and  trembling  at  the  awful  sight 
I  had  seen,  I  slipped  out  of  town  unnoticed. 

WHAT  CAME  OP  OTJE  CEIMES 

I  saw  nothing  of  George  Mason  and  for  months 
afterward  did  not  know  how  he  had  escaped.    With 


126  SOPHIE  LYONS 

better  judgment  than  my  husband  showed  Me  bact 
remained  quietly  in  the  store  after  the  outcry 
started.  He  saw  the  shooting,  and,  in  the  confusion 
which  followed,  he  found  little  difficulty  in  getting 
out  of  town. 

Friends  of  mine  in  New  London  aided  me  to  re-/ 
turn  to  the  hospital  in  Hartford,  where  Ned  had 
been  taken  after  the  shooting.  His  recovery  was 
slow,  for  there  was  a  bullet  imbedded  nine  inches 
deep  in  his  back  which  the  surgeons  were  unable  to 
remove.  As  soon  as  he  was  able  to  stand  trial  he 
was  sentenced  to  three  years  in  State  prison,  and, 
when  he  had  completed  this  term,  he  was  given  threa 
years  in  Massachusetts  for  the  robbery  at  Palmer, 

This  was  the  result  of  our  crimes  in  New  England 
— my  husband  nearly  killed  and  sentenced  to  six 
long  years  in  prison.  Can  you  wonder  why  I  have 
learned  the  lesson  that  crime  does  not  pay? 

But,  to  my  sorrow,  I  did  not  learn  the  lesson  then 
—no,  not  for  many  years  after  that.  With  my  hus- 
band in  prison  the  support  of  my  little  ones  felX 
wholly  on  my  shoulders,  and  I  promptly  turned  to 
bank  robbing  as  the  easiest  way  I  knew  of  making 
a  living. 

My  early  training  under  such  expert  bank  robbers 
as  Ned  Lyons,  Mark  Shinburn,  and  Harry  Raymond 
made  me  extraordinarily  successful  in  this  variety 
of  crime.  The  cleverest  men  in  the  business  began 
to  have  respect  for  my  judgment  and  were  con- 
tinually inviting  me  to  take  an  important  part  in 
their  risky  but  very  profitable  ventures.    Soon,  as 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  127 

I  am  going  to  tell  you,  my  reputation  for  skill  in 
organizing  the  most  daring  robberies  and  carrying 
them  through  without  detection  had  spread  even  be- 
yond the  limits  of  the  underworld. 

One  day,  when  I  was  trying  to  enjoy  the  novel 
experience  of  living  honestly  for  a  few  weeks,  a 
distinguished  looking  gentleman  called  at  my  home. 
He  saw  my  look  of  incredulity  when  he  announced 
himself  as  a  bank  president  and  promptly  produced 
a  heavy  engraved  card  which  confirmed  the  truth 
of  his  statement 

Instantly  I  was  on  my  guard.  In  those  days  my 
house  was  the  headquarters  for  all  sorts  of  strange 
persons — receivers  of  stolen  goods,  professional 
bondsmen,  criminal  lawyers,  escaped  prisoners — 
but  I  had  never  before  been  honored  by  a  visit  from 
a  bank  president.  What  on  earth  could  the  president 
of  a  bank  want  of  a  bank  robber? 

"I  understand  that  you  are  one  of  the  most  suc- 
cessful bank  robbers  in  America,' '  he  said  without 
any  delay  in  coming  to  the  point.  "I  want  your  ad- 
vice in  a  little  undertaking  I  have  in  mind,  and,  if 
possible,  your  help." 

"My  advice  and  help!"  I  exclaimed,  thinking  the 
man  must  be  out  of  his  head. 

"That's  exactly  what  I  want,"  he  replied  coolly. 
"I  want  you  to  tell  me  how  I  can  have  my  bank 
robbed,  and,  if  possible,  I  want  you  to  take  charge 
of  the  robbery  yourself." 

As  he  explained,  he  was  more  than  $150,000  short 
in  his  accounts.    He  had  taken  this  amount  from 


128  SOPHIE  LYONS 

the  bank  within  the  past  year  and  lost  every  dolla* 
of  it  in  speculation.  He  could  not  return  this  money 
and  it  was  only  a  matter  of  a  few  weeks  before  his 
embezzlement  would  be  discovered. 

Being  a  man  of  prominence  in  his  community — a 
deacon  in  the  church,  his  wife  a  society  leader,  his 
children  in  college — running  away  was  out  of  the 
question.  For  months  he  had  been  racking  his  brain 
for  some  way  of  averting  the  ruin  which  he  had 
brought  upon  himself. 

The  plan  he  had  finally  devised  for  retaining  his 
good  name  and  keeping  out  of  prison  was  to  have 
his  bank  robbed.  On  the  night  of  the  robbery  he 
would  leave  $50,000  in  the  vault  to  pay  the  robbers 
for  their  trouble,  but,  when  he  came  to  announce 
the  robbery  to  the  police  and  the  newspapers,  he 
would  declare  that  $200,000  had  been  taken. 

In  this  way  his  thefts  would  be  covered  up  and 
he  could  continue  to  enjoy  the  respect  and  confidence 
of  the  community  where  he  had  always  lived. 

A   BANKER    HIRES    US    TO   ROB 

I  was  amazed  at  the  bold  ingenuity  of  this  plan 
and  the  matter-of-fact  way  in  which  he  presented  it ' 
to  me.  This  was  the  first  I  had  ever  heard  of  a 
v  bank  being  robbed  by  request  of  one  of  its  officials. 
Later  I  came  to  know  that  it  is  not  an  uncommon 
thing  for  dishonest  presidents  and  cashiers  to  con- 
ceal their  thefts  by  hiring  robbers  to  break  into  their 
banks.     The  difference  between  what  is  actually 


WHAT  HAPPENED  WHEN  WE  ROBBED  A  BANK   "  BY  REQUEST." 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  129 

taken  in  one  of  these  robberies  by  request  and 
what  the  police  and  the  newspapers  say  is  taken 
covers  the  amount  which  the  embezzling  official  has 
lost  in  Wall  Street  or  some  other  speculation. 

At  that  time  such  an  idea  was  so  new  to  me  that 
all  sorts  of  suspicions  crowded  into  my  mind.  Prob- 
ably it  was  a  trap  for  me,  I  thought,  and  I  posi- 
tively declined  to  have  anything  to  do  with  it. 

But  the  old  banker  would  not  take  no  for  an  an- 
swer. He  urged  me  to  think  it  over  and  a  week 
later  he  called  again. 

By  this  time  the  fear  of  the  disgrace  which  threat- 
ened him  and  his  family  had  made  him  a  nervous 
wreck.  He  begged  so  piteously  for  me  to  help  him 
save  his  good  name  that  my  womanly  sympathies 
got  the  better  of  me  and  I  finally  consented. 

All  my  feeling  for  him,  however,  did  not  quite  free 
my  mind  of  the  fear  that  the  whole  affair  might  be 
a  trick,  and  I  determined  to  protect  myself  and  the 
robbers  who  would  assist  me  with  all  the  shrewdness 
I  could. 

"We  must  have  a  written  agreement/'  I  said  at 
the  very  start. 

The  banker  objected  to  this,  fearing,  I  suppose, 
that  I  might  use  the  paper  against  him  later  for 
blackmail.  But  I  insisted  that  I  would  not  do  a 
thing  until  I  had  it. 

"If  you  can't  trust  me  to  that  extent  I  can't  trust 
you, ' '  I  said  firmly — and  at  last  he  told  me  to  draw 
up  the  paper  and  he  would  sign  it. 

According  to  the  contract  which  I  prepared,  the 


130  SOPHIE  LYONS 

banker  paid  five  thousand  dollars  down  and  was  to 
pay  me  an  equal  amount  as  soon  as  I  had  completed 
my  arrangements  and  set  the  date  for  the  robbery. 
He  further  agreed  that  there  should  be  at  least 
$50,000  in  cash  in  the  bank  vault  on  the  night  of 
our  visit. 

It  was  further  provided  that  the  banker  should  co- 
operate with  me  and  my  fellow  robbers  in  every  pos- 
sible way,  and  that  he  should  do  nothing  to  aid  in 
our  arrest  or  conviction  for  the  crime,  which,  as  was 
expressly  stated,  was  committed  at  his  suggestion, 
and  not  ours.  In  case  the  robbery  was  interrupted 
before  we  could  get  inside  the  vault  the  banker  was 
to  pay  us  $25,000  in  cash  in  addition  to  the  $10,000 
already  advanced. 

I  agreed  to  leave  no  stone  unturned  to  carry  out 
the  robbery  and  promised  to  return  the  agreement 
to  the  banker  as  soon  as  all  its  provisions  had  been 
fulfilled. 

All  this  I  set  down  on  paper  in  as  businesslike  way 
as  I  knew  how.  It  was  a  document  which  would  have 
made  the  poor  old  banker's  ruin  even  greater  than 
his  thievings  had  done  if  I  had  been  the  sort  of 
woman  to  break  faith  with  him.  With  trembling 
fingers  he  signed  it  and  counted  out  $5,000  in  bills. 

From  the  banker  I  had  gained  a  good  idea  of  the 
bank  and  the  sort  of  vault  we  would  have  to  enter. 
Now,  to  get  some  good,  reliable  men  to  help  me  do 
the  job. 

Of  all  the  bank  burglars  in  my  acquaintance 
George  Mason  seemed  best  fitted  for  this  particular 


QUEEN  OP  THE  BURGLARS  131 

crime.  He  was  a  cool,  resourceful  fellow  and  had 
had  wide  experience  in  blowing  open  bank  vaults. 

George  readily  agreed  to  join  me,  and  for  the  rest 
of  the  party  he  recommended  two  younger  men — 
Tom  Smith  and  Frank  Jones,  I  will  call  them,  al- 
Uiough  those  were  not  their  names.  I  do  not  like 
to  reveal  their  identity  here  because  they  later  re- 
formed and  led  honest  lives. 

Right  here  let  me  say  that  I  never  told  these  three 
men  of  my  arrangements  with  the  banker  or  that  I 
was  to  receive  from  him  $10,000  in  addition  to  what 
wo  expected  to  find  in  the  vault.  If  they  are  alive 
to-day  and  read  these  lines  they  will  learn  here  for 
tho  first  time  that  the  bank  in  Quincy,  111.,  which  they 
helped  Sophie  Lyons  rob  was  robbed  by  request  of 
its  president. 

BORING   INTO    THE   BANK   VAULT 

I  sent  word  to  the  banker  that  we  were  ready  and 
he  came  to  my  house  and  paid  me  $5,000  more. 
Th<sn,  by  different  routes,  George  Mason,  the  other 
two  robbers  and  I  proceeded  to  Quincy. 

I  was  the  first  to  arrive.  I  went  to  the  leading 
hotel,  announced  my  plan  to  add  a  patent  medicine 
laboratory  to  the  town 's  industries  and  began  to  look 
around  for  a  suitable  location  for  my  enterprise. 
As  I  believe  I  mentioned  in  a  previous  chapter,  this! 
ruse  of  the  patent  medicine  laboratory  was  one  I 
had  borrowed  from  my  friend,  Harry  Raymond — he 
had  used  it  to  splendid  advantage  in  his  robbery  of 
the  Boylston  Bank  in  Boston. 


132  SOPHIE  LYONS 

Of  course,  it  was  a  part  of  my  prearranged  plan 
with  the  banker  that  the  quarters  I  should  finally 
find  best  suited  for  my  purpose  would  be  a  room  on 
the  second  floor  of  the  bank  building,  directly  over; 
the  vault  we  were  going  to  rob. 

I  made  several  visits  to  the  bank  before  I  com- 
pleted my  arrangements  with  the  president — partly 
to  carry  out  my  role  of  the  cautious  business  woman 
and  partly  to  study  the  construction  of  the  vault  and 
see  where  we  could  best  bore  our  way  into  it. 

By  the  time  the  lease  was  signed  the  three  men 
who  were  to  be  associated  with  me  in  the  new  busi- 
ness arrived.  With  their  help  I  secured  a  quantity 
of  bottles,  labels,  jars  of  chemicals,  chairs,  desks, 
tables,  and  other  things  we  would  need  if  we  were 
really  making  patent  medicine. 

Among  the  articles  of  furniture  we  moved  in  was 
an  unusually  large  oak  wardrobe.  We  removed  the 
bottom  from  this  and  placed  it  over  the  exact  spot 
in  the  floor  where  we  planned  to  dig  our  opening  into 
the  bank  vault. 

Then,  while  one  of  the  men  and  I  ostentatiously 
pasted  labels  on  endless  bottles  of  " Golden  Bit- 
ters," the  other  two  men  crawled  into  the  wardrobe 
where  no  chance  visitor  could  see  them  and  day  after 
day  continued  the  work  of  removing  the  layers  of 
brick  and  timber  which  separated  us  from  the  vault. 
We  stored  the  debris  as  it  accumulated  in  bags  and 
carried  it  away  every  night. 

It  was  was  a  long  job  and  a  hard  one.    The  floor 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  133 

timbers  were  seasoned  oak  and  beneath  them  were 
two  layers  of  brick. 

In  the  cramped  space  inside  the  wardrobe  it  was 
hard  to  work  to  the  best  advantage  and,  besides, 
the  men  never  knew  just  how  far  they  had  pro- 
gressed and  were  in  constant  fear  that  an  extra 
vigorous  blow  would  loosen  a  big  strip  of  plaster  in 
the  ceiling  of  the  bank. 

To  our  disgust  we  found,  after  we  had  passed 
through  the  floor  itself,  that  the  vault  had  a  sort 
of  false  roof  composed  of  short  lengths  of  railroad 
iron  placed  irregularly  in  a  setting  of  mortar  and 
brick.  This  made  our  task  three  days  longer  than 
we  had  expected. 

Late  one  afternoon  George  Mason  cleared  away  a 
space  which  left  only  a  thin  layer  of  lath  and  plaster 
between  us  and  the  inside  of  the  vault. 

There  was  too  much  danger  of  the  gaping  hole  we 
had  dug  under  the  wardrobe  being  discovered  to 
admit  of  any  further  delay.  We  made  our  arrange- 
ments to  rob  the  bank  that  very  night. 

While  the  rest  of  the  town  was  going  to  bed  we 
waited  impatiently  for  it  to  get  late  enough  for  us 
to  lay  our  hands  on  the  $50,000  which  I  had  every 
reason  to  believe  was  waiting  below  that  thin  layer 
of  lath  and  plaster.  Luckily  enough  the  bank's 
watchman  was  at  a  christening  party  that  evening 
and  was  not  likely  to  return  until  the  wee  small 
hours.  This  prevented  the  necessity  of  my  remain- 
ing on  guard  outside. 

Shortly  after  midnight  we  turned  out  our  lamps 


134  SOPHIE  LYONS 

and  lighted  our  dark  lanterns.    I  peered  out  @f  tke 
window — the  streets  were  deserted. 

George  Mason  took  a  small  sledge  hammer  and 
with  one  or  two  well  directed  blows  opened  up  the 
hole  in  the  floor  wide  enough  to  admit  his  body. 
Then  he  tied  one  end  of  a  long  rope  under  his  arms 
and  we  lowered  him  down  into  the  vault. 


MY  COMRADE'S  NARROW  ESCAPE 

To  the  best  of  my  knowledge^  and  belief  the  cash 
which  had  been  promised  would  be  found  right  on 
the  shelves  of  the  vault,  and  all  George  would  have 
to  do  would  be  to  stuff  it  into  his  pockets  and  climb 
back  up  the  way  he  had  come. 

But,  whether  through  intent  or  an  oversight  on 
the  president's  part,  that  was  not  the  case.  For 
several  minutes  we  waited  breathlessly  listening  to 
George  as  he  fumbled  around  the  vault  by  the  light 
of  his  dark-lantern.  Then  we  heard  him  call  in  a 
hoarse  whisper: 

"Sophie,  it's  just  as  I  was  afraid  it  would  be. 
Every  cent  of  the  money  is  locked  up  in  the  small 
steel  safe.  I'll  have  to  come  back  up  and  get  my 
tools.' ' 

It  is  the  custom  in  big  bank  vaults  to  have  a  small 
and  separate  steel  safe  to  put  the  actual  cash  into. 
Leases,  documents,  account  books,  and  sometimes 
bonds  and  stock  certificates  are  kept  in  the  big  vault, 
but  money  and  things  of  special  value  are  usually 
locked  up  in  the  inside  steel  compartment. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  135 

With  some  difficulty  we  hauled  him  back  up.  From 
his  bag  he  selected  the  drills  he  thought  he  would 
need  and  from  a  bottle  poured  out  what  seemed  to 
me  an  extra  generous  quantity  of  black  powder. 

"Be  careful  and  not  use  too  much  of  that  stuff,' ' 
I  called  as  he  disappeared  again  through  the  hole.. 
"Ned  always  said  that  was  your  worst  f ailing.' 9 

"Don't  you  worry,  Sophie,"  he  replied;  "it  will 
take  a  good  big  dose  to  open  this  safe. ' ' 

For  several  minutes  we  sat  there  listening  to  the 
rasping  of  his  drills  against  the  door  of  the  safe. 
Just  as  we  felt  that  tug  on  the  rope  which  was  the 
signal  to  haul  him  up,  we  saw  the  flare  of  his  lighted 
match  and  heard  the  sputter  of  the  fuse. 

We  pulled  on  the  rope  for  all  we  were  worth  but 
before  George 's  body  was  within  two  feet  of  the  hole 
in  the  floor  there  came  a  blinding  flash,  followed  by 
an  explosion  that  shook  the  building. 

Although  dazed  by  the  shock  and  half  blinded  by 
the  cloud  of  dust  and  poisonous  fumes  which  poured 
up  through  the  hole,  we  managed  to  keep  our  hold 
on  the  rope  and  haul  our  helpless  comrade  out  of 
the  death  trap  in  which  the  premature  explosion  had 
caught  him. 

"George!"  I  called,  as  we  lifted  the  rope  from 
under  his  arms.  But  he  never  answered  and  I 
thought  it  was  only  a  corpse  that  we  laid  gently  on 
the  floor.  His  hair  and  eyebrows  were  completely 
burned  off,  his  face  and  hands  were  as  black  as  coal 
and  he  was  bleeding  from  an  ugly  wound  in  the 
head. 


136  SOPHIE  LYONS 

We  forgot  the  money  we  were  after — we  forgot 
the  danger  of  being  caught — in  our  anxiety  for  our 
wounded  friend.  One  of  the  men  brought  water 
while  I  tried  to  force  a  drink  of  brandy  down  his 
throat.  It  seemed  an  age  before  he  came  to  his 
senses,  raised  himself  on  one  elbow  and  roughly 
pushed  me  aside. 

"It  went  off  too  quick  for  me,"  he  said;  "but 
don't  be  foolish — I'll  be  all  right  in  a  minute.  Look 
and  see  if  the  noise  has  roused  the  town." 

I  looked  out — there  was  not  a  soul  in  sight.  The 
bank's  thick  walls  and  the  fact  that  it  stood  at  some 
distance  from  any  other  building  had  evidently  pre- 
vented the  explosion  being  heard  outside. 


Although  suffering  intense  pain  George  insisted 
on  going  back  to  get  the  money.  It  was  no  easy 
task,  for  the  vault  was  full  of  suffocating  smoke. 
There  was  no  time  to  lose,  as  the  watchman  might 
return  at  any  minute. 

After  a  few  minutes  we  hauled  him  up  for  the 
third  time. 

"That  charge  blew  the  safe  door  to  splinters,  but 
here's  every  dollar  it  contained,"  he  said,  handing 
me  several  packages  of  bills. 

'  I  counted  the  money  and  had  hard  work  to  conceal 
my  surprise  when  I  found  there  was  only  $30,000. 
But,  as  Mason  thought  himself  lucky  to  escape  with 
his  life  and,  as  the  other  two  men  seemed  well  satis- 
fied with  the  amount,  I  said  nothing. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  13> 

We  started  at  once  for  Chicago,  where  a  few  days 
later  we  divided  the  spoils.  As  I  had  expected,  the 
bank's  loss  was  placed  by  the  newspapers  at  $200,- 
000.  A  large  reward  was  offered  for  the  capture 
of  the  robbers.  I  was  pleased  to  note  that  the  presi- 
dent's story  of  the  amount  taken  and  of  the  complete 
mystery  in  which  the  affair  was  shrouded  seemed  to 
be  generally  accepted. 

After  the  excitement  had  died  down  the  bank 
president  came  to  Detroit  to  see  me.  Worry  over 
the  possibility  of  his  crime  being  discovered  had 
shattered  his  nerves  and  he  was  such  a  poor  broken 
specimen  of  an  old  man  that  I  did  not  have  the 
heart  fb  demand  the  additional  $20,000  which  he  had 
promised  us.  As  I  tore  up  our  agreement  and 
handed  him  the  pieces,  he  said : 

FACING  A  LYNCHING  MOB 

"My  criminal  folly  has  ruined  my  peace  of  mind. 
Thanks  to  your  help,  I  have  saved  my  family  from 
disgrace,  but  the  worries  and  nervous  strain  of  my 
defalcation  and  the  bank  robbery  have  killed  me. 
My  doctors  say  I  have  heart  disease,  and  have  but 
a  few  months  to  live.  I  wish  I  had  known  two  years 
ago  what  I  have  since  learned — that  crime  does  not. 
pay."  f 

The  desperate  risks  every  criminal  has  to  run 
often  come  through  no  crime  of  his  own,  but 
through  his  association  with  other  criminals.  Two 
of  the  most  exciting  events  in  my  varied  career  hap- 


13S  SOPHIE  LYONS 

pened  to  me  through  my  loyal  effort  to  save  the  life 
of  my  friend,  Tom  Bigelow,  a  well-known  bank  sneak 
and  burglar. 

It  was  in  Mount  Sterling,  Kentucky,  that  all  this 
(happened.  I  was  there  on  a  perfectly  legitimate 
;  errand  and  had  no  idea  that  any  of  my  criminal 
friends  were  in  the  vicinity. 

There  was  a  circus  in  town  that  day  and  the  long 
main  street  was  crowded  with  sightseers.  I  had 
been  watching  the  parade  with  the  rest  and  was  on 
my  way  back  to  the  hotel  for  dinner  when  I  heard 
some  one  call  my  name. 

Looking  around  in  surprise  I  saw  Johnny  Meaney, 
a  young  bank  sneak,  whom  I  knew  well,  pressing  his 
way  through  the  crowd  toward  me.  He  was  all  out 
of  breath  and  in  the  greatest  agitation. 

" Sophie,' '  he  whispered  in  my  ear,  "they're  just 
caught  Tom  Bigelow  with  the  bank's  money  on  him 
and  they're  going  to  lynch  him." 

There  was  no  time  to  ask  him  more — before  the 
last  word  was  fairly  out  of  his  mouth  he  had  disap- 
peared in  the  crowd. 

As  I  afterward  learned,  Tom  and  Johnny  had 
taken  advantage  of  the  excitement  created  by  the 
circus  parade  to  rob  the  Mount  Sterling  Bank. 
While  the  cashier  was  standing  upon  the  counter  to 
see  the  passing  parade,  Johnny  had  crawled  in  un- 
der his  legs  and  taken  a  bundle  of  money  out  of  the 
vault. 

He  got  safely  out  with  his  plunder  and  was  just 
banding  it  to  Tom,  who  had  been  waiting  in  a  buggy 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAES  139 

outside,  when  the  cashier  discovered  his  loss  and 
raised  a  great  outcry.  Before  Tom  had  time  to  stir 
out  of  his  tracks  a  hundred  willing  hands  in  the 
crowd  had  made  him  a  prisoner — then  some  one 
started  the  cry,  " Lynch  the  Yankee  robber !"  and 
some  one  else  brought  a  rope. 

In  the  excitement  nimble  John  Meaney  had  man- 
aged to  escape.  As  he  dashed  down  the  street  he 
had  chanced  to  catch  sight  of  me  and  had  passed 
me  the  word  of  our  friend's  peril. 

The  crowd  was  already  hurrying  in  the  direction 
of  the  square  in  the  center  of  the  town  where  the 
court  house  stood  and  I  followed  as  fast  as  my  legs 
could  carry  me. 

As  I  entered  the  square  I  could  see  Tom's  familiar 
form  looming  above  the  heads  of  the  yelling  mob 
which  surrounded  him.  He  was  mounted  on  a  soap 
box  under  an  oak  tree  which  stood  in  front  of  the 
court  house. 

I  shall  never  forget  how  he  looked — pale  as  a 
sheet,  his  feet  tied  with  rope,  his  arms  securely 
bound  behind  him.  He  was  bareheaded  and  they 
had  removed  his  coat  and  collar  in  order  to  adjust 
the  noose  which  hung  around  his  neck. 

Quite  plainly,  if  there  was  anything  I  could  do 
to  save  my  friend,  it  must  be  done  quickly.  The 
mob  was  loudly  clamoring  for  his  life.  Already  a 
young  man  was  climbing  up  the  tree  in  search  of  a 
convenient  limb  over  which  to  throw  the  end  of  the 
rope. 

I  shuddered  to  think  that,  unless  I  could  devise 


140  SOPHIE  LYONS 

some  plan  of  action,  Tom  Bigelow's  lifeless  body 
would  soon  be  dangling  before  my  eyes. 

Summoning  every  ounce  of  the  nervous  energy  I 
possessed  I  pressed  my  way  through  the  crowd, 
screaming  frantically : 

1  l  That  man  is  my  sweetheart !  Don 't  lynch  him— 
oh,  please  don 't  lynch  him ! f ' 

My  action  took  the  crowd  by  surprise — they  made 
a  lane  for  me  and  pushed  me  along  until  finally  I 
stood  right  at  Tom's  feet. 

HOW  I  SAVED  TOM'S  LIFE 

I  climbed  up  on  the  box  beside  Tom;  I  threw  my 
arms  around  his  neck,  although  the  feel  of  that 
ugly  noose  against  my  flesh  made  me  shudder. 

"This  man  is  innocent — he  is  my  sweetheart,"  I 
kept  shouting.    "You  must  let  him  go." 

I  hugged  Tom  Bigelow,  I  kissed  him,  I  wept  over 
him — I  did  everything  I  could  imagine  a  woman 
doing  when  the  man  she  loves  is  about  to  be  hung 
before  her  eyes. 

"If  you  hang  him  you'll  have  to  hang  me,  too,"  I 
screamed  between  my  heart-rending  sobs. 

The  crowd  was  amazed.  Lynchings  were  no  un- 
common occurrence  in  that  region,  but  nothing  like 
this  had  ever  happened  before. 

The  cooler  heads  in  the  crowd  began  to  have  their 
say.  "Take  that  noose  off  his  neck  and  lock  them 
both  up,"  some  one  shouted. 

The  Sheriff  put  handcuffs  on  us  and  led  us  away. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  141 

My  ruse  had  succeeded.     Tom  Bigelow's  life  was 
saved ! 

Tom  and  I  were  lodged  in  jail,  indicted  by  the 
Grand  Jury  and  held  without  bail  for  trial.  Of 
course,  I  was  innocent  of  any  share  in  the  robbery, 
but,  as  the  authorities  believed  my  story  that  I  was 
Tom's  sweetheart,  they  thought  I  must  know  more, 
about  it  than  I  admitted. 

It  was  while  we  were  confined  in  the  jail  at  Mount 
Sterling  that  I  had  an  opportunity  to  see  for  myself 
how  it  feels  to  face  a  desperate  lynching  mob.  That 
was  one  of  the  most  horrid  nightmares  I  ever  ex- 
perienced. 

One  of  our  fellow  inmates  in  the  jail  was  a  man 
named  Murphy  Logan,  who  was  awaiting  trial  for 
the  murder  of  his  father.  He  was  a  sullen,  weak- 
minded  fellow,  who  had  several  killings  to  his  dis- 
credit. The  general  opinion  was  that  he  belonged 
in  an  insane  asylum. 

In  another  neighboring  cell  was  a  young  man 
named  Charlie  Steele.    He  was  exceedingly  popular 
in  the  community.     His  worst  fault  was  love  of 
liquor  and  he  was  in  jail  for  some  minor  offense 
which  he  had  committed  on  one  of  his  sprees.    The 
other  prisoners  shunned  Logan  on  account  of  hi 
disagreeable  ways,  but  Steele  good  naturedly  mad 
quite  a  friend  of  him  and  they  often  played  card 
together. 

In  this  jail  the  prisoners  were  allowed  the  free- 
dom of  the  long  corridor  on  which  the  cells  opened. 
One  afternoon  Tom  Bigelow  and  I  sut  just  outside 


142  SOPHIE  LYONS 

my  cell  trying  to  devise  some  way  to  regain  our 
liberty.  Down  at  the  other  end  of  the  corridor, 
Charlie  Steele  and  Murphy  Logan  were  enjoying 
their  usual  game  of  cards. 

Suddenly  we  were  startled  by  a  piercing  scream. 
I  jumped  to  my  feet,  and  looked  around  to  see  poor 
Steele  lying  on  the  floor  with  the  blood  streaming 
from  a  long  wound  in  his  throat.  Over  him,  glaring 
like  the  madman  he  was,  stood  Murphy  Logan, 
brandishing  in  one  hand  a  heavy  piece  of  tin  which 
he  had  fashioned  into  a  crude  sort  of  dagger. 

Forgetful  of  my  own  danger,  I  rushed  up  and 
seized  Logan's  arm,  just  as  he  was  about  to  plunge 
the  weapon  into  Steele's  body  again.  He  turned 
on  me,  but  I  managed  to  keep  him  from  wounding 
me  until  Tom  and  some  of  the  other  prisoners  came 
to  my  assistance. 

Steele  lived  only  a  few  hours.  The  Sheriff  placed 
the  murderer  in  solitary  confinement,  and  chained 
him  to  the  floor  of  his  cell.  His  ravings  were  some- 
thing terrible  to  hear.  He  continually  threatened 
vengeance  on  any  of  his  fellow  prisoners  who  would 
tell  how  he  had  slain  his  friend. 

After  listening  to  these  threats  all  night  long  we 
were  in  terror  of  our  lives,  and  when  the  inquest 
was  held  next  day  not  a  single  prisoner  would  ad- 
mit that  he  had  seen  the  killing. 

" Didn't  you  see  this  happen V9  the  Sheriff  asked 
me. 

"No,"  I  lied,  "I  was  in  my  cell  at  the  time,  and 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  143 

don't  know  anything  about  how  Steele  came  to  his 
end." 

"You  lie!"  shouted  Logan,  when  he  heard  this. 
1 1  If  you  hadn  't  interfered  I  would  have  cut  him  up 
worse  than  I  did.  I  will  make  you  suffer  for  stick- 
ing your  nose  into  my  affairs." 
'  The  town  was  in  a  fever  of  excitement,  and  from 
the  windows  of  our  cells  we  could  see  excited  groups 
discussing  the  murder  on  every  corner.  Feeling 
ran  particularly  high,  because  the  dead  man  had 
been  so  popular  in  the  community  while  nobody 
liked  Murphy  Logan. 

Late  that  night  Logan  became  so  exhausted  with 
his  ravings  that  he  fell  asleep.  I  was  just  preparing 
to  try  to  get  some  rest  myself  when  I  heard  the 
tramp  of  heavy  feet  coming  up  the  jail  stairs. 

By  the  dim  light  of  the  one  smoky  kerosene  lamp 
I  saw  a  crowd  of  masked  men  trooping  into  the  cor- 
ridor. The  leaders  carried  heavy  sledge  hammers, 
and  with  these,  having  been  unable  to  make  the 
Sheriff  give  up  his  keys,  they  attacked  the  iron  door 
of  Logan's  cell. 

It  quickly  fell  to  pieces  before  their  sturdy  blows. 
Then  they  broke  the  murderer's  shackles  and 
dragged  him,  shrieking  curses  with  every  breath, 
down  the  stairs  and  out  into  the  street. 

They  strung  him  up  to  a  tree,  riddled  him  with 
bullets,  and  left  his  body  hanging  there  in  the  moon- 
light in  full  view  of  my  cell  window.  This  was  too 
much  for  my  overwrought  nerves.  I  threw  myself 
on  my  ©ouch  and  wept.    Tom  Bigelow  did  his  best 


144  SOPHIE  LYONS 

to  console  me,  but  I  could  not  sleep — my  head  ached 
and  I  trembled  in  every  limb. 

About  an  hour  later  I  heard  that  ominous  tramp 
of  feet  again!  This  time  the  masked  men  cam© 
straight  to  the  door  of  my  cell. 

"Is  this  where  that  woman  isf"  a  rough  voice, 
called. 

I  cowered  in  a  corner,  too  frightened  to  reply, 
They  pounded  the  door  down  just  as  they  had 
Murphy  Logan's.  A  man  seized  me  by  the  arm  and 
pulled  me  out,  none  too  gently. 

They  were  going  to  lynch  me — I  was  convinced 
of  that.  With  tears  streaming  down  my  cheeks  I 
pleaded,  as  I  never  had  before,  that  I  was  innocent 
of  any  crime,  and  begged  to  be  allowed  to  go  back 
home  to  my  children. 

They  took  me  downstairs  into  the  Sheriff's  office, 
where  sat  a  man  who  seemed  io  be  the  leader  of  the 
mob. 

"So  you  tried  to  save  Charlie  Steele's  life,  did 
your'  he  said  to  me. 

Then  for  the  first  time  it  dawned  on  me  that  per- 
haps I  was  not  going  to  be  hanged  after  all.  I  told 
the  whole  truth  about  what  I  had  done  when  I  saw 
Logan  waving  his  dagger  over  his  victim.  When 
I  had  finished  the  leader  said: 

"That's  all  we  want  to  know,  young  woman.  We 
liked  Charlie  Steele,  and  we  like  you  for  what  you 
tried  to  do  for  him.  Now  you're  free  to  get  out  of 
town — that's  your  reward  for  trying  to  save  poor 
Charlie.    We'll  see  you  safely  to  the  depot." 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BUEGLARS  145 

I  was  overjoyed.  The  leader  handed  me  enough 
money  for  my  traveling  expenses  and  permitted  me 
to  go  up  to  Tom's  cell  and  tell  him  of  my  good 
fortune.  Before  day  broke  I  was  on  a  train  for 
Detroit. 

These  are  only  a  few  of  the  desperate  risks  which 
my  husband,  my  friends,  and  I  were  constantly  fac- 
ing during  the  years  when  I  was  active  in  crime. 

If  every  business  man  and  merchant  faced  prison, 
bullets,  or  a  lynching  as  a  necessary  risk  of  trade, 
would  anybody  regard  business  life  as  attractive! 

The  incidents  from  my  own  experiences  give  one 
more    illuminative    reason   why   I   maintain   that 

CHIME  DOES  KOT  PAY! 


146  SOPHIE  LYONS 


CHAPTER  VI 

BEHIND   THE   SCENES    AT   A   $3,000,000  BURGLARY THE 

BOBBERY  OF  THE  MANHATTAN  BANK  OP  NEW  YORK 

Of  course,  crimes,  like  business  operations,  are 
sometimes  big  and  sometimes  small.  They  vary  in 
importance  from  the  pickpockets  capture  of  an 
empty  pocketbook  to  the  robbery  of  a  big  bank.  I 
will  tell  you  the  secrets  of  the  greatest  bank  rob- 
bery in  the  history  of  the  world — the  robbery  of 
$2,758,700  from  the  vaults  of  the  Manhattan  Bank 
in  New  York,  on  the  corner  of  Broadway  and 
Bleecker  Street,  several  years  ago. 

Every  man  in  that  remarkable  gang  of  bank 
burglars  was  an  associate  of  mine — I  knew  them, 
knew  their  wives,  was  in  partnership  with  them. 
It  was  an  extraordinary  enterprise,  carefully  con- 
sidered, thoroughly  planned,  and  ably  executed; 
and  it  yielded  nearly  $3,000,000  in  stolen  securities 
and  money.  There  has  never  been  a  bank  robbery 
of  such  magnitude,  either  before  or  since.  It  was 
complicated  by  the  difficulty  of  disposing  of  the 
great  bundles  of  valuable  bonds,  many  of  which  I 
had  to  look  after. 

In  my  long  and  varied  experiences  in  the  under- 
world I  have  never  been  associated  with  an  enter- 
prise so  remarkable  in  so  many  different  ways  as 
the  Manhattan  Bank  robbery.  There  were  alto- 
gether twelve  men  in  this  robbery,  and  every  single 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  147 

one  of  them,  with  the  exception  of  one,  got  into 
trouble  through  it — one,  in  fact,  was  murdered. 
And  here,  then,  in  the  biggest,  richest  robbery  of 
modern  times,  we  learn  the  lesson  that  even  in  a 
$3,000,000  robbery  CRIME  DOES  NOT  PAY! 

Bank  burglars,  of  course,  are  constantly  casting 
about  for  promising  fields  for  their  operations,  and 
this  great,  rich  Broadway  bank  had  long  been 
viewed  with  hungry  eyes  by  Jimmy  Hope,  Ned 
Lyons,  my  husband,  and  other  great  professionals. 
But  not  only  were  its  vaults  of  the  newest  and 
strongest  construction,  but  there  was  a  night  watch- 
man awake  and  active  all  night  in  the  bank.  This 
watchman  was  locked  in  behind  the  steel  gratings 
of  the  bank,  and  Hope  and  my  husband  could  not 
figure  out  any  way  to  get  at  him  and  silence  him. 

It  remained  for  a  thief  named  "Big  Jim"  Tracy 
to  solve  the  difficulty.  Now  the  curious  part  of  this 
is  that  Tracy  was  not  a  bank  robber  at  all.  Traey 
was  a  general  all-around  thief,  and  specialized  more 
particularly  in  second-story  residence  burglaries 
and  highway  robberies.  Tracy  was  not  even  a  me- 
chanic and  was  entirely  ignorant  of  the  way  to  use 
safe-blowers'  tools.  But  Tracy  was  ambitious  and 
decided  to  surprise  his  acquaintances  in  the  bank 
burglary  line  by  doing  a  job  which  would  give  him 
standing  among  the  high-class  experts. 

STALKING   THE    WATCHMAN 

Tracy  had  one  great  advantage — he  had  been  a 
schoolmate  of  Patrick  Shevelin,  one  of  the  bank 


148  SOPHIE  LYONS 

watchmen.  Knowing  Shevelin,  he  was  able  to  renew 
into  intimacy  his  old  acquaintance,  and  soon 
broached  the  subject  of  the  contemplated  robbery. 
Shevelin  was  a  married  man,  rather  proud  of  the 
trust  reposed  in  him,  and  would  not  consent  to  have 
any  part  in  the  scheme.  If  Jimmy  Hope  or  my 
husband  had  approached  the  watchman  he  would 
have  exposed  them  to  the  bank  officials,  but  he  had 
a  friendly  feeling  toward  Tracy.  Tracy  was  per- 
sistent, held  out  pictures  of  a  fabulous  fortune,  and 
finally  gained  the  watchman's  consent. 

When  all  was  agreed  upon,  Tracy  decided  to  get 
an  outfit  of  burglar's  tools  and  practice  up  for  the 
job.  By  this  time  "Big  Jim"  was  out  of  money, 
and  he  ran  up  to  Troy  to  pull  off  a  job  and  put  him- 
self in  funds.  He  selected  an  out  of  town  city  be- 
cause he  didn't  want  any  trouble  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  scene  of  the  projected  bank  robbery. 

It  was  in  July  that  Tracy,  with  a  fellow  thief, 
"Mush"  Eeilly,  followed  a  man  named  John  Buck- 
ley out  of  a  bank  in  Troy,  where  he  had  drawn  a 
considerable  sum  of  money.  Mr.  Buckley  got  on  a 
street  car  and  Tracy  and  Reilly  crowded  in  and  be- 
gan work.  They  were  not  able  to  get  the  man's 
money  without  disturbing  him,  and  the  result  was 
that  Buckley  put  up  a  fight.  "Big  Jim"  and 
"Mush"  fought  back,  but  were  surrounded  by  other 
passengers  in  the  car  and  arrested.  They  were 
tried,  convicted,  and  sent  to  Clinton  Prison  for  five 
years. 

TWs  misfortune  to  "Big  Jim"  Tracy  put  am  end 


QUEEN  OP  THE  BURGLARS  149 

to  his  designs  upon  the  great  Manhattan  Bank.  But 
the  missionary  work  which  Tracy  had  already  done 
with  Shevelin,  the  watchman,  was  destined  to  bear 
fruit  for  others.  While  "Big  Jim"  was  serving  hig 
long  sentence  in  Clinton  Prison  for  the  Troy  rob- 
bery, it  became  known  somehow  to  Jimmy  Hope 
that  Tracy  and  the  watchman  of  the  bank  had  ar- 
rived at  an  understanding.  This  was  very  important 
news,  and  Hope  at  once  started  in  to  pick  up  the 
thread  which  had  been  so  suddenly  broken  by 
Tracy's  mishap  in  Troy. 

But  this  was  not  so  easy  to  accomplish.  Shevelin 
had  confidence  in  his  old  schoolmate  Tracy,  but  he 
was  afraid  of  strangers.  Jimmy  Hope  was  the  Na- 
poleon of  bank  burglars,  and  he  had  in  his  gang  the 
foremost  bank  experts  of  the  whole  world.  Hope 
found  a  way  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  Shevelin 
and  he  tried  every  device  to  win  the  watchman's 
confidence.  But  the  shock  of  "Big  Jim"  Tracy's 
long  prison  sentence  had  thoroughly  frightened  the 
watchman. 

With  great  patience,  Hope  began  a  campaign  to 
remove  Shevelin 's  misgivings  and  make  him  feel 
that  with  such  partners  he  need  have  no  fear.  One 
after  another  of  Hope's  great  experts  were  intro- 
duced to  Shevelin.  At  dinner  one  day  in  a  Third 
Avenue  restaurant,  Johnny  Dobbs  was  produced, 
and  the  exploits  of  this  famous  burglar  were  re- 
counted. Next  was  introduced  George  Howard, 
known  as  "Western  George,"  and  Shevelin  was 
told  of  this  man's  extraordinary  skill  on  safes  and 


150  SOPHIE  LYONS 

vaults.  And  then  came  George  Mason  and  Ned 
Lyons,  whose  amazing  boldness  and  quickness  with 
a  revolver  were  already  known  to  Shevelin. 


A  few  days  later,  John  Nugent,  an  able  operator 
and  a  policeman  in  good  standing,  was  presented, 
and  a  little  later  on  Abe  Coakley,  the  venerable 
cracksman,  was  introduced.  Finally,  the  famous 
1 'Banjo  Pete"  Emerson  and  Billy  Kelly  and  Eddie 
Goodey  were  brought  to  bear  on  the  wavering  fears 
of  the  watchman. 

Shevelin  was  finally  overawed  by  this  powerful 
aggregation  of  skill,  persistence,  and  audacity,  and 
consented  to  join  Hope's  band  of  operators.  As  I 
look  back  over  that  group  of  burglars,  I  am  sure 
there  was  never  before  gathered  together  on  one 
enterprise  such  a  galaxy  of  talent.  With  such  ex- 
pert skill  and  such  abundant  experience  as  were 
there  represented  and  all  under  the  able  leadership 
of  such  a  veteran  cracksman  as  Jimmy  Hope,  surely 
it  was  impossible  that  their  enterprise  could  fail. 
Shevelin  finally  realized  this,  and,  as  he  gave  his 
pledge  of  help  and  loyalty,  Jimmy  Hope  shook  his 
hand  warmly  and  said: 

' '  And  if  we  get  the  stuff,  Patrick,  your  share  will 
be  just  a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars.  And  that's 
more  than  you  will  ever  make  working  as  a  watch  > 
man." 

Jimmy  Hope  now  lost  no  time  in  setting  about 
his  plans  for  the  robbery. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  151 

While  Shevelin's  aid  was  absolutely  necessary,  it 
vas  only  a  very  short  step  in  itself  toward  Jimmy 
Hope's  goal,  the  currency  and  securities  lying  in 
separate  steel  safes  inside  the  great  vault.  The 
entire  system  of  steel  plates  and  locks  was  the  lat- 
est, most  completely  burglar-proof  devised.  It  was 
universally  supposed  to  be  not  only  burglar-proof 
but  mob-proof.  It  had  been  demonstrated  theoretic- 
ally that  burglars  working  undisturbed  could  not 
obtain  access  inside  of  forty-eight  hours.  Indeed, 
it  was  the  very  impregnability  of  the  vault  which 
helped  in  its  undoing. 

Shevelin  could  give  the  band  entrance  to  the  build- 
ing and  could  bring  them  to  the  door  of  the  great 
vault.  But  here,  in  plain  view  of  the  street,  it  would 
be  impossible  to  study  out  and  assault  the  combina- 
tion lock.  As  the  lock  could  not  be  studied  inside 
the  bank  it  was  evident  that  the  problem  must  be 
solved  outside. 

For  this  task  Hope  employed  a  woman  very  in- 
timately related  to  one  of  the  band.  While  I  do 
not  care  to  give  her  name,  as  she  is  still  alive,  I  may 
Bay  that  she  was  considered  a  very  attractive  woman. 

Elegantly  dressed  she  called  at  the  bank  and 
opened  an  account  with  the  deposit  of  a  few  hun- 
dred dollars.  She  made  clear  to  everyone  her 
charming  ignorance  of  banking.  She  was  as  amus- 
ing as  pretty,  and  before  long  she  was  talking  to 
President  Schell  himself. 

It  was  in  fact  the  president  who  proudly  showed 
her  the  massive  steel  doors  and  the  mighty  combi- 


152  SOPHIE  LYONS 

nation  lock  which  would  guard  her  small  deposit. 
With  innocent  baby  stare  she  noted  the  make  of 
the  lock  and  its  date. 

Possessed  of  this  information,  Hope,  who  was 
nothing  if  not  thorough,  proceeded  to  buy  from  the 
manufacturer  a  counterpart  of  the  lock.  As  soon  as 
it  arrived  the  lock  was  turned  over  to  the  inquiring 
eyes  and  fingers  of  George  Howard.  Ensconced  in 
a  little  house  in  a  quiet  part  of  Brooklyn,  "  West- 
ern George"  made  an  intimate  investigation  of  the 
lock's  vitals. 

Howard  undoubtedly  was  the  greatest  inventive 
genius  in  locks  that  ever  lived,  unless,  perhaps, 
Mark  Shinburn,  a  burglar  of  a  similar  mechanical 
turn  of  mind.  He  could  have  made  no  end  of  money 
designing  burglar-proof  devices,  but  preferred  dem- 
onstrating the  weakness  of  the  existing  ones  in  a 
practical  way.  Hope's  confidence  in  Howard  was 
not  misplaced.  Within  a  few  days  George  told  the 
leader  he  could  open  the  lock  by  the  simple  pro- 
cedure of  drilling  a  small  hole  just  below  it  and 
inserting  a  wire. 

Hope  watched  Howard  demonstrate  on  their  own 
lock  and  at  once  planned  a  prospective  tour  of  the 
bank  to  see  if  the  performance  could  be  duplicated 
on  the  lock  in  the  Manhattan  Bank.  If  so,  they  were 
in  sight  of  their  goal. 

While  the  band  was  waiting  for  a  convenient  oc- 
casion when  Shevelin  would  be  on  duty  at  the  bank 
and  could  admit  them  safely  to  test  Howard's  grand 
discovery,  a  great  blow  fell  upon  the  whole  plan. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  153 

It  was  the  mysterious  murder  of  Howard  himself. 

If,  as  some  have  suggested,  the  taking  off  of 
Howard  was  the  hand  of  Providence,  I  can  only- 
point  out  that  the  hand  was  a  little  bit  slow.  If 
Howard  had  been  killed  two  days  earlier,  I  can't 
see  how  the  band  could  have  gotten  into  the  vault. 
Hope,  with  all  his  ingenuity  and  executive  ability, 
was  no  great  mechanical  genius  on  an  up-to-date 
lock,  nor  was  any  other  member  equal  to  the  task. 

Howard  was  on  bad  terms  with  several  very  force- 
ful members  of  the  underworld,  at  least  one  of 
whom  was  in  the  dozen  who  were  secretly  besieging 
the  Manhattan  Bank.  While  the  gang  was  rejoicing 
and  waiting,  a  letter  came  to  Howard  requesting  his 
immediate  presence  on  important  business  at  a  place 
near  Brooklyn. 

OPENING  THE  GREAT  VAULT 

The  following  week  Howard's  body  was  foiand  in 
the  woods  of  Yonkers,  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand  and 
a  bullet  in  his  breast.  The  suicide  theory  was  dis- 
pelled by  finding  another  bullet  in  the  back  of  his 
head.  Investigation  brought  to  light  that  a  wagon 
containing  a  heap  of  sacking  had  been  seen  driving 
through  the  woods  and  had  later  returned  empty. 

Hope  and  others  suspected  Johnny  Dobbs,  of  the 
gang,  of  doing  the  shooting,  but  nothing  was  ever 
proved  about  it. 

Dobbs  and  Hope  soon  after  were  let  in  by  Sheve- 


154  SOPHIE  LYONS 

lin  and  they  put  Howard's  theory  into  practice. 
They  bored  a  hole  about  the  diameter  of  a  22-eali- 
ber  bullet  just  under  the  lock,  inserted  a  wire,  threw 
back  the  tumblers,  and  had  no  trouble  in  getting 
into  the  vault. 

There  stood  the  safes  and  from  three  to  six  mil- 
lion dollars  in  money  and  securities.  But  this  was 
only  a  prospecting  tour  and  the  two  burglars  were 
careful  to  disturb  nothing.  Returning,  they  softly 
closed  the  huge  door  and,  Hope  manipulating  the 
wire,  threw  back  the  tumblers.  But  Hope  lacked 
the  mechrnical  skill  and  fine  sense  of  touch  pos- 
sessed by  the  late  lamented  Howard,  and  he  pushed 
one  of  the  tumblers  the  wrong  way.  He  knew  he 
had  made  a  mistake  but  was  unable  to  correct  it. 
This  meant  that  the  bank  employees  the  next  morn- 
ing would  be  unable  to  open  the  door. 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  fill  the  hole  with 
putty  so  that  it  would  not  show  from  the  outside 
and  see  what  the  morning  would  develop.  Quite 
naturally  Hope  assumed  that  the  lock-tampering 
would  be  discovered  and  his  whole  plan  be  ruined. 
The  gang  prepared  to  scatter,  but  as  it  turned  out 
they  need  not  have  worried. 

Sure  enough,  in  the  morning  the  doors  refused 
to  respond  to  the  cashier's  manipulations.  The 
makers  of  the  lock  were  sent  for,  and  after  infinite' 
labor  the  door  was  opened.  The  experts  from  the 
factory  who  performed  the  feat  were  curious  to  see 
what  had  gone  wrong  with  their  mechanism.  It 
was  in  "apple  pie"  order  with  the  exception  of  one 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  155 

tumbler  which,  for  no  apparent  reason,  had  moved 
in  the  wrong  direction. 


A   TIP   TO    THE    POLICE 

Jimmy  Hope's  drill  hole,  puttied  up  and  nicely- 
hidden  on  the  outside  showed  black  and  conspicuous 
from  the  inside.  The  lock  mechanics  observed  the 
hole  and  asked  the  officers  of  the  bank  how  the  hole 
came  there.  They  all  shook  their  heads  and  the 
Subject  was  dropped.  A  portly  and  prosperous 
looking  gentleman  who  had  been  standing  at  the 
paying  teller's  window  after  changing  a  one  hun- 
dred dollar  bill,  heaved  a  sigh  and  walked  away. 
It  was  Jimmy  Hope ! 

"Boys,"  be  said  to  the  band,  who  were  all  pre- 
pared to  abandon  the  job,  "it's  a  shame  to  take  that 
money.  Those  simple  souls  have  found  our  hole 
and  it  doesn  't  even  interest  them.  They  are  worry- 
ing about  a  little  $20,000  loan  on  some  doubtful  se- 
curity, and  here  we  are  within  a  few  inches  of  from 
three  to  six  millions." 

"Such  faith  is  beautiful,"  said  Johnny  Dobbs. 
with  mock  piety,  "let  us  pray  that  it  be  justified." 

Nevertheless  the  job  was  postponed  for  a  year 
on  account  of  information  furnished  by  John  Nu- 
gent. Nugent,  being  a  member  of  the  New  York 
police  force  in  good  standing,  was  able  to  keep  in 
close  touch  with  headquarters.  He  learned  that 
the  presence  of  a  dozen  of  the  ablest  bank  burglars 
in  the  world  had  become  known  to  the  police.    Not 


156  SOPHIE  LYONS 

that  the  police  had  discovered  their  presence  by  de- 
tective work,  for  this  happens  only  in  novels  or  de- 
tective plays.  When  the  " sleuth' '  in  actual  life 
gets  any  real  information  it  is  because  somebody 
for  fear,  hatred,  or  reward  has  told  him. 

As  I  have  said,  there  was  bad  feeling  in  the  band 
and  I  think  someone  interested  in  Howard's  death 
gave  the  tip.  At  any  rate,  the  band  took  pains  to 
scatter,  and  the  various  members  were  careful  to 
record  themselves  at  different  cities  remote  from 
New  York.  The  New  York  police  were  much  re- 
lieved and  promptly  forgot  the  tip  that  "  something 
big"  was  to  be  "pulled  off." 

Just  about  a  year  later  Shevelin,  who  was  not  by 
nature  intended  for  a  crook,  looked  up  from  a 
drunken  doze  at  a  saloon  table  into  the  keen  eyes 
of  Jimmy  Hope.  Shevelin  had  neither  the  instinc- 
tive inclination  nor  the  nervous  system  which  be- 
long to  the  natural  criminal.  The  bare  fact  that  he 
was  connected  with  the  projected  robbery  had  made 
a  drinking  man  of  him. 

He  was  in  debt  and  in  other  trouble,  and  was 
genuinely  pleased  to  open  negotiations  again  with 
the  able  and  confidence-inspiring  leader.  Every- 
thing was  now  in  order  to  go  on  with  the  undertak- 
ing. There  were  no  dissensions  in  the  gang,  there- 
fore the  police  had  no  inkling,  the  bank  was  smugly 
confident  of  their  steel  fortress,  and  it  only  remained 
to  name  the  hour. 

Hope's  operations  were  much  embarrassed  by 
the  fact  that  Patrick  Shevelin  was  only  a  supple- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  157 

mentary  watchman.  Daniel  Keely,  his  brother-in- 
law,  was  the  regular  night  watchman,  and  abso- 
lutely honest,  as  Hope  knew,  both  from  his  own 
investigations  and  from  Shevelin  *s  assurances. 
Shevelin 's  duty  was  as  day  watchman,  chiefly  dur- 
ing banking  hours.  The  only  time  when  he  did  not 
share  his  watch  with  either  Keely  or  the  equally 
incorruptible  janitor  of  the  building,  Louis  Werkle, 
was  on  Sunday.  Therefore,  the  morning  of  a  beau- 
tiful October  Sabbath  was  chosen. 

Hope  saw  that  the  weak  spot  of  the  bank  was 
also  the  vulnerable  point  in  his  own  operations, 
namely,  the  nervous  and  somewhat  alcoholic  Sheve- 
lin.  Hope  decided  it  would  be  best  for  Shevelin  to 
not  be  on  duty  at  the  bank  that  Sunday,  but  to  ar- 
range with  Werkle,  the  janitor,  to  take  his  place. 

THE    NIGHT   BEFORE 

Had  Shevelin  been  of  sterner  stuff,  the  robbers 
would  have  bound  and  gagged  him  and  left  him 
with  a  carefully  rehearsed  tale  of  a  plucky  fight 
against  fearful  odds  to  relate  to  his  rescuers.  But 
it  was  more  than  probable  that  Shevelin  would  be- 
tray himself  in  the  inevitable  ordeal  of  hours  and 
hours  of  tiresome  examination.  Therefore,  it 
seemed  best  to  have  him  at  home,  sick,  where  he 
could  establish  an  unshakable  alibi  and  answer,  "I 
don't  know"  to  all  questions. 

Shevelin  admitted  the  band  Saturday  night  and 
concealed  them  in  a  storeroom  in  an  upper  part  of 


158  SOPHIE  LYONS 

the  building.  There  they  sat  crowded,  cramped,  and 
uncomfortable  through  the  entire  night.  They  dared 
not  smoke  nor  even  eat  for  fear  Keely,  the  regular 
night  watchman,  who  occasionally  poked  his  nose 
into  the  room  during  his  rounds,  might  notice  an  un- 
accustomed smell.  ( 

This  matter  of  smell  illustrates  how  carefully 
Jimmy  Hope  worked  out  the  minutest  details  of 
his  plan.  He  foresaw  that  ten  men  packed  into  a 
rather  small  room  would,  even  without  food  or 
smoke,  make  the  atmosphere  seem  close  to  the  nos- 
trils of  the  watchman  familiar  with  the  usual  empty 
smell  of  the  place. 

For  this  reason  Hope  ordered  his  men  to  bathe 
before  the  job  and  wear  clean  clothing  without  any 
scent  whatever.  No  tobacco,  drink,  or  onions  passed 
their  lips  on  Saturday.  As  a  last  precaution,  at 
Hope's  order,  Shevelin  broke  a  bottle  of  smelly 
©ough  medicine  on  the  floor  in  the  presence  of  his 
brother-in-law. 

As  I  have  said,  the  regular  night  watchman  was 
Keely — an  honest,  incorruptible  man.  Shevelin  was 
day  watchman.  Shevelin  worked  from  six  in  the 
morning  until  six  at  night,  when  Keely  came  on  duty 
for  the  night  job. 

The  janitor  of  the  building,  who  lived  over  the 
bank  with  his  family,  was  a  worthy,  honest  man  ' 
named  Werkle.  Everybody  trusted  Werkle,  and  so 
it  had  come  about  that  Werkle  was  now  and  then 
made  temporary  day  or  night  watchman,  whenever 
Shevelin  or  Keely  were  sick  or  wanted  a  day  ©ff. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  159 

Though,  as  I  have  said,  the  genius  of  "Western 
George' '  Howard  in  discovering  a  simple  and  speedy- 
method  of  opening  the  lock  by  inserting  a  wire 
through  a  small  hole  bored  beneath  it  was  the  one 
thing  which  made  Hope's  plans  feasible,  yet,  at  the 
last  minute,  this  method  became  unnecessary. 


CONSULTATION  IN  THE  DAEK 

As  if  the  bank  had  not  done  enough  in  the  way  of 
kindness  to  the  burglars  by  ignoring  their  little  hole, 
they  gave  Werkle,  the  janitor,  the  numbers  of  the 
combination  and  keys  to  unlock  it.  Neither  Keely 
nor  Shevelin  were  trusted  to  this  extent,  and  Sheve- 
lin  only  learned  of  the  janitor's  secret  in  time  to 
tell  Hope  the  night  before  the  robbery. 

This  new  information  was  discussed  in  whispers 
throughout  the  night  by  the  gang.  Hope  had  mis- 
givings about  using  the  wire  and  the  hole.  The 
fact  that  he  had  failed  to  return  one  of  the  tumblers 
to  its  proper  place  on  the  previous  occasion  wor- 
ried him.  It  was  quite  possible  he  might  make  a 
wrong  move  and,  instead  of  opening  the  door,  lock 
it  irrevocably.  In  that  case  it  was  not  to  be  hoped 
that  the  easy  going  bank  officials  would  give  him  a 
third  chance. 

On  the  other  hand,  forcing  the  janitor  to  surren- 
der his  keys  and  reveal  the  combination  had  great 
disadvantages.  It  meant  delay.  He  might  give  the 
wrong  set  of  numbers  from  fear  or  loyalty.  At 
any  rate  he  was  certain  to  hesitate.    As  it  proved, 


160  SOPHIE  LYONS 

time  was  worth  about  $100,000  a  minute,  and  ten 
extra  minutes  would  have  doubled  the  value  of  the 
"haul." 

Shevelin  went  home  with  the  understanding  that 
Werkle,  the  janitor,  would  take  his  watch  in  the 
morning,  when  Keely,  the  night  watchman,  went 
off  duty.  At  10  o'clock,  Werkle  and  his  wife  went 
to  sleep  in  their  little  bedroom  above  the  bank,  and 
Keely  made  his  rounds  uneventfully.  At  6  o'clock, 
Sunday  morning,  Keely  waked  Werkle,  the  janitor, 
and  departed  by  the  back  door.  The  closing  of  the 
back  door  was  the  cue  for  the  gang  to  take  their 
places  and  they  had  no  time  to  lose. 

Jimmy  Hope  and  Johnny  Dobbs,  with  Billy  Kel- 
ly and  Eddie  Goodey,  Johnny  Hope,  son  of  Jimmy 
Hope,  Mason,  and  Nugent,  and  my  husband,  Ned 
Lyons,  rapidly  but  stealthily  advanced  upon  the 
janitor's  bedroom.  To  reach  it  they  had  to  ~»ass 
through  another  bedroom,  where  slept  the  agea  and 
feeble-minded  mother  of  Mrs.  Werkle. 

While  gagging  and  binding  the  old  woman  a 
slight  amount  of  noise  was  made.  Werkle  paused 
in  his  dressing  and  remarked  that  he  would  step 
in  and  see  what  was  doing. 

The  robbers  forestalled  him  by  entering  and  cov- 
ering him  with  their  revolvers.  They  presented  a 
terrifying  spectacle,  each  man  wearing  a  hideous 
black  mask.  Rubber  shoes  on  their  feet  made  their 
steps  noiseless.    They  were  received  in  silent  horror. 

The  tableau  was  broken  by  a  faint  scream  from 
Mrs.  Werkle.    Instantly  cold  muzzles  were  placed 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  161 

to  their  temples  and  instant  death  threatened  in 
return  for  the  slightest  sound.  Werkle 's  keys  and 
the  combination  of  the  lock  were  demanded. 

Poor  Werkle  attempted  to  delay  complying,  but 
a  few  savage  prods  in  his  ear  with  the  point  of 
Hope's  gun  scattered  the  last  thought  of  resistance. 
He  delivered  the  keys  and  told  them  the  combina- 
tion. Hope  had  decided  at  the  last  moment  that  as 
long  as  he  had  to  tackle  the  janitor  he  might  as  well 
make  him  surrender  the  combination,  if  possible,  and 
save  the  trouble  and  uncertainty  of  working  with 
the  wire  and  the  hole  which  the  bank  had  obligingly 
neglected  to  repair. 

Werkle  volunteered  the  objection  that  the  com- 
bination numbers  would  be  no  use  unless  they  knew 
bow  to  operate  them.  Hope  inserted  a  gag  in  the 
janitor's  mouth  and  assured  him  that  he  need  not 
worry  on  that  score  as  he  was  in  possession  of  all 
the  information  he  needed. 

Leaving  Johnny  Hope  and  Nugent,  the  police- 
man, with  cocked  pistols  watching  the  bound  and 
gagged  janitor  and  wife  and  the  silent  and  mysteri- 
ous Eddy  Goodey  mounting  guard  over  the  helpless 
old  woman,  Jimmy  Hope  and  Johnny  Dobbs  hurried 
downstairs  to  the  vault,  accompanied  by  Ned  Lyons. 

Lyons  was  always  a  desperate  man,  who  could 
tkink  and  act  quickly.  In  emergency  he  was  gov-/ 
erned  by  instinct,  which  is  quicker  than  the  quickest 
intellect.  In  time  of  trouble,  Lyons  was  always  a 
tower  of  strength.  He  would  not  hesitate  at  mur- 
der, if  necessary,  and  his  sudden  hand  would  bolster 


162  SOPHIE  LYONS 

up  a  hesitating  member  of  the  gang.  For  this  rea- 
son he  was  held  in  reserve  and  worked  in  the  vault 
with  Jimmy  and  Dobbs. 

Downstairs,  they  found,  as  expected^  "  Banjo 
Pete"  Emerson  in  overalls  and  false  whiskers, 
armed  with  a  feather  duster  and  made  up  to  look 
exactly  like  the  janitor,  Werkle.  " Banjo  Pete,"  as 
his  name  implies,  was  a  musician,  in  fact  had  been 
a  member  of  a  negro  minstrel  troupe,  and  was  an 
actor  of  no  mean  ability.  It  was  the  ability  to  make- 
up and  act  which  made  Hope  cast  him  for  the  part 
of  counterfeit  janitor.  During  the  entire  proceed- 
ing, he  walked  about  the  front  of  the  bank  in  full 
view  from  the  street,  dusting  the  furniture  and 
keeping  an  eye  out  for  signals  from  old  Abe  Coak- 
ley,  dean  of  the  burglars,  who  had  the  responsible 
position  of  watching  all  that  went  on  outside. 

FOOLING  THE  PATROLMAN 

A  policeman  was  in  sight  of  the  bank  during  the 
entire  activities,  and  actually  walked  up  and  gazed 
in  the  window.  " Banjo  Pete"  looked  up  from  his 
dusting  and  waved  his  hand  to  the  policeman,  who 
thought  he  recognized  his  old  friend  Werkle,  nodded 
"good  morning,"  and  then  passed  on. 

Meanwhile,  Billy  Kelly  had  taken  his  place  just 
inside  the  back  door  with  a  pistol  and  a  lead  pipe 
and  seated  himself  on  the  back  stairs,  while  George 
Mason  was  sauntering  about  outside  the  door  to  give 
warning  and  prevent  interruption  from  that  point 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  163 

All  these  men  covered  the  operations  of  Jimmy 
Hope  and  Johnny  Dobbs,  who  opened  the  vault  door 
with  Werkle's  key  and  combination,  and  fell  to 
work  on  the  steel  safes  within.  There  were  three, 
one  on  either  side  and  one  in  the  back.  With  the 
sledge  hammer  and  knife-edged  wedges  the  two 
burglars  spread  the  crack  of  one  of  the  safe  doors 
wide  enough  to  force  in  the  necessary  explosive. 
Pausing  only  long  enough  to  learn  from  his  con- 
federates that  the  coast  was  clear,  Hope  touched  it 
off.  A  muffled  reverberation  reached  the  policeman 
across  the  street.    He  glanced  over  at  the  bank. 

" Banjo  Pete"  dropped  his  duster,  crossed  to  the 
window,  and  peered  out  as  if  the  explosion  were 
from  outdoors  somewhere,  and  he  were  mildly  won- 
dering. The  policeman  resumed  his  reflections  and 
the  work  went  on.  Fifteen  minutes  later  another 
muffled  boom  marked  the  blowing  of  the  second  safe. 

At  this  point  Hope  and  Dobbs  paused  to  collect 
the  booty.  It  was  more  than  they  could  carry,  so 
half  a  peck  of  bonds  was  passed  out  to  the  vigilant 
Billy  Kelly  on  the  back  stairs,  as  much  more  to  the 
silent  Goodey,  unwelcome  watcher  by  the  bedside  of 
the  feeble  old  woman. 

With  bulging  eyes,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Werkle  saw  a 
few  bags  of  gold  tossed  in  to  their  guardians  and 
pocketed.  The  gang  had  been  growing  richer  at 
the  rate  of  about  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  a  min- 
ute for  some  time. 

As  Hope  and  Dobbs  returned  to  attack  the  third 
safe,  which  stood  in  the  rear,  there  came  a  threat- 


204  SOPHIE  LYONS 

ened  interruption.  George  Mason,  outside,  gave  the 
signal  to  Billy  Kelly,  inside  the  back  door,  to  be 
on  guard.  A  milk  wagon  stopped,  the  driver  de- 
scended with  a  quart  of  milk,  opened  the  back  door, 
and  was  about  to  ascend  the  stairs  with  it  to  deliver 
to  the  janitor. 

Billy  Kelly,  on  guard  on  the  stairs  for  just  such 
an  emergency,  politely  informed  him  that  the  jani- 
tor and  his  family  had  gone  away  and  would  need 
no  more  milk  for  some  time.  The  milkman  replaced 
the  bottle  in  his  wagon  and  went  on,  while  Hope 
drove  home  his  wedges. 

But  now  came  a  serious  interruption,  the  wily  old 
Coakley  signaled  that  the  end  of  their  operations 
had  come.  It  was  inevitable  that  Kohlman,  the 
barber,  would  soon  open  up  his  little  shop  beneath 
the  bank.  This  was  what  Coakley  signaled  to 
" Banjo  Pete,"  who  called  the  news  to  the  workers 
within  the  vault. 

Immediately  Hope,  Dobbs,  and  Lyons  laid  down 
their  tools,  put  on  their  coats,  stuffed  the  remainder 
of  the  undisturbed  plunder  inside  their  clothes,  and 
told  the  band  to  quit. 

Johnny  Hope  and  Nugent,  with  a  last  bloodthirsty 
threat,  left  the  Werkles.  Eddy  Goodey  pocketed  his 
revolver  and  joined  the  group  collecting  around 
Billy  Kelly  on  the  back  stairs,  where  " Banjo  Pete" 
was  getting  out  of  his  overalls  and  pocketing  hii5 
false  whiskers. 

George  Mason  gave  the  "get  away"  signal  oa 
the  outside,  and  one  by  one  the  gang,  carrying  nearly 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  165 

$3,000,000  in  money  and  securities,  mingled  with 
the  crowd  and  vanished. 

Coakley,  on  watch  in  front,  stayed  around  and 
waited  for  further  developments. 

About  ten  minutes  later  the  early  customers  of 
Kohlman's  barber  shop  heard  someone  leaping 
down  the  stairs  from  the  bank.  In  burst  apparently 
a  madman,  half -dressed,  his  hands  handcuffed  be- 
hind him. 

THE   JANITOR'S  ESCAPE 

A  gag  in  his  mouth  added  to  his  strange  appear- 
ance. Unable  to  speak  or  use  his  hands,  he  danced 
up  and  down  and  made  growling  sounds  like  a  mad 
dog. 

The  barber  shop  emptied  itself  and  Kohlman  was 
not  able  at  once  to  recognize  behind  the  gag  and 
the  jaunty  disarray  of  clothing  his  old  friend  Wer- 
kle,  janitor  of  the  bank. 

The  gag  removed,  Werkle  was  able  to  blurt  out 
the  fact  that  the  bank  had  been  robbed.  The  police- 
man across  the  street  was  summoned,  and  with  him 
came  Coakley.  They  heard  an  amazing  and  some- 
what incoherent  tale.  The  policeman,  being  rather 
young  and  inexperienced,  listened  open  mouthed 
and  did  not  know  what  to  do. 

Coakley,  the  elderly  and  rather  distinguished 
looking  gentleman,  suggested  that  the  story  sounded 
4 * fishy,' '  and  the  policeman  ought  to  investigate. 
He  did  so.  The  whole  party  entered  the  bank  and 
Coakley  was  able  to  note  that  no  telltale  clues  had 


166  SOPHIE  LYONS 

been  left  behind.  He  observed  with  regret  that, 
while  two  of  the  safes  gaped  wide  open  and  the 
third  contained  several  wedges,  it  was  still  shut 
tight. 

The  policeman  held  the  half -crazed  Werkle  pris- 
oner and  guarded  the  safe  while  he  sent  Coakley  to 
the  police  station  to  call  out  the  reserves.  This  er- 
rand Coakley  neglected  and,  instead,  looked  up 
Jimmy  Hope,  who,  like  most  robbers,  was  leading 
a  double  life.  He  had  a  wife  and  children  in  one 
part  of  the  city,  and  in  another  a  fashionable  apart- 
ment where  he  was  known  as  Mr.  Hopely,  a  retired 
capitalist,  and  had  quite  a  circle  of  friends,  mostly 
prosperous  business  men. 

From  this  point  luck  turned  against  the  band. 
The  tremendous  proportions  of  the  robbery  caught 
everyone's  imagination.  The  underworld  was  as 
much  excited  as  the  police,  and  talk  and  speculation 
would  not  die  down.  The  neglected  hole  in  the  lock 
came  to  view  again,  and  it  was  now  appreciated  in 
its  full  significance. 

The  police  recollected  their  tip  about  Hope  and 
his  gang  which  had  come  to  them  at  the  same  time 
as  the  discovery  of  the  hole  and  their  suspicions 
began  to  grow  against  some  of  the  real  perpetrator?. 
Still,  for  many  weeks,  there  was  not  an  atom  of 
evidence  against  any  member.  Patrick  Shevelin,  the 
weak  link  of  the  chain,  began  to  feel  the  pressure. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  167 

THE   WEAK  SPOT 

Not  only  was  he  a  man  lacking  in  the  robust 
nerves  essential  to  a  successful  criminal,  and  also 
one  who  drank  too  much,  but  he  was  cruelly  dis- 
appointed as  well.  He  had  been  led  to  believe  that 
a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars  in  cold  cash  would 
be  handed  to  him  within  a  day  or  two  after  the  rob- 
bery. He  was  going  to  buy  a  castle  in  Ireland  and 
a  few  other  things  with  the  money. 

Instead  of  all  this,  Hope  gave  him  only  $1,200. 
He  explained  at  the  time  that  this  was  only  his 
share  of  the  cash  stolen,  and  that  the  balance  of  the 
quarter  million  would  be  forthcoming  as  soon  as  the 
bonds  and  stocks  had  been  converted  into  cash. 

But  alas  for  poor  Shevelin.  The  bonds  never 
were  converted  and,  instead  of  more  money,  Hope 
brought  him  bad  news  and  actually  forced  him  to 
return  half  of  the  $1,200.  He  told  Shevelin  that  a 
bill  was  being  prepared  at  Washington  to  compel 
the  issuance  of  duplicate  securities  in  place  of  those 
stolen.  This  would,  of  course,  make  the  original* 
worthless  and  kill  the  sale  of  them  and  make  the 
robbery  a  financial  failure. 

There  was  truth  in  Hope's  plea,  for  the  bill  was 
actually  passed,  but  it  is  doubtful  if  poor  Shevelin's 
$600  was  used,  as  Hope  promised,  to  bribe  Senators 
and  Congressmen  to  obstruct  the  bill. 

The  horse  being  stolen,  the  bank  took  pains  to 
lock  the  barn  door.  They  not  only  rearranged  their 
locks  and  filled  up  the  hole,  but  investigated  Werkle, 


168  SOPHIE  LYONS 

Keely,  and  Shevelin.  Finding  that  Shevelin  was 
drinking  and  frequenting  disreputable  places,  they 
were  about  to  discharge  him.  But  the  detectives 
persuaded  the  bank  to  retain  him  for  fear  discharge 
might  excite  the  suspicions  of  the  gang. 

Detectives  shadowed  Shevelin  night  and  day. 
Some  of  them  became  acquainted  with  him  under 
one  guise  or  another.  They  even  became  intoxicated 
with  him.  On  one  or  two  occasions  he  let  slip  re- 
marks that  he  was  connected  with  some  big  secret 
affair.  One  day  they  saw  a  bartender  get  a  package 
from  a  drawer  and  hand  it  to  Shevelin,  who  opened 
it  and  took  out  some  bills,  and  then  returned  the 
package.  The  detective  was  able  to  see  that  the 
package  contained  several  hundred  dollars.  This 
was  more  than  Shevelin,  in  all  probability,  would 
have  saved  out  of  his  small  salary  with  all  his  bad 
habits. 

In  spite  of  all  this  they  knew  Shevelin  was  not 
ripe  for  arrest.  Finally,  in  a  maudlin  moment  he 
conveyed  the  information  that  he  had  been  the 
means  of  making  a  great  achievement  possible  and 
that  he  had  been  treated  very  shabbily. 

The  detectives  at  once  had  the  bank  discharge 
him  on  some  pretext  foreign  to  the  robbery.  This 
added  to  Shevelin 's  gloom.  When,  on  top  of  this, 
he  was  arrested,  he  was  quite  ripe  to  confess.  That 
the  gang  might  not  become  suspicious,  he  was  ar- 
rested for  intoxication,  taken  to  court  the  next  day, 
and  discharged.    As  soon  as  he  stepped  out  of  the 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAKS  169 

courtroom  he  was  rearrested,  and  this  procedure 
was  repeated  day  after  day. 

Still  Shevelin  refused  to  confess  until  a  detective, 
telling  him  how  much  the  authorities  knew  about 
the  case,  informed  him  that  all  the  gang  were  rich 
beyond  measure  except  Shevelin. 

"What  a  sucker  you  were,  Pat,"  he  concluded, 
"to  accept  a  measly  $10,000." 

Shevelin  leaped  to  his  feet  and  shouted. 

"It's  a  lie.  I  never  got  any  $10,000,  so  help  m© 
heaven.    I  never  got  more  than  $600  for  it." 

"I  apologize,"  said  the  detective,  "you  are  a  ten 
times  bigger  fool  than  any  one  supposed." 

Shevelin  realized  he  made  a  hopelessly  damaging 
confession  and  within  a  few  hours  the  police  were 
in  possession  of  the  complete  details  of  the  case. 

THE    WATCHMAN'S    CONFESSION 

For  fear  anyone  should  not  believe  the  actual 
amount  that  was  taken  from  the  bank,  I  refer  you 
to  the  following  official  list  of  just  what  we  got  from 
the  Manhattan  Bank  as  it  was  announced  by  the 
president  of  the  bank : 

NOTICE 

THE  MANHATTAN  SAVINGS  INSTITUTION 

was,  on  the  morning  of  Sunday,  October  27,  robbed 
of  securities  to  the  amount  of  $2,747,700,  and  $11,- 
000  in  cash,  as  follows : 


170  SOPHIE  LYONS 

THE   STOLEN   SECURITIES 

United  States  5's  of  1881,  8  of  $50,000  each,  10  of 

10,000  each  $500,000 

United  States  6's  of  1881,  20  of  $10,000  each 200,000 

United  States  10-40  bonds,  60  of  10,000  each 600,000 

United  States  4  per  cents,  30  of  $10,000  each 300,000 

United  States  5-20's  of  July,  1865;    26  of  $500  eaeh, 

35  of  $1,000  each 48,000 

New  York   State   sinking  fund   gold   6's,   registered, 

No.  32  32,000 

New  York  City  Central  Park  fund  stock,  certificate 

No.  724   22,700 

New  York  County  Court  House  stock,  6  per  cent 202,000 

New  York  City,  accumulated  debt,  7  per  cent  bonds, 

two  of  $100,000  each,  and  one  of  $50,000 250,000 

New  York  City  Improvement  stock,  10  certificates  of 

$20,000  each 200,000 

New  York  City  Revenue  Bond,  registered 200,000 

Yonkers  City  7  per  cent  coupon  bonds,  118  of  $1,000 

each 118,000 

Brooklyn  City  Water  Loan  coupon  bonds,  25  of  $1,000 

each 25,000 

East  Chester  Town  coupon  bonds,  50  of  $1,000  each. . .  50,000 
Cash   11,000 

Total  amount  stolen $2,758,700 

Charles  F.  Alford,  Secretary. 

Edward  Schell,  President. 

If  Hope  had  found  ten  minutes  more  time  at  his 
disposal  he  would  have  entered  the  third  safe,  and, 
as  it  happened,  come  upon  almost  three  million 
more.  However,  as  it  stood,  this  was  the  greatest 
robbery  ever  achieved,  and,  as  things  were,  each  man 
of  the  gang  should  have  been  rich. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BUEGLARS  171 

HUNTING    DOWN    THE   GANG 

Now  we  will  see  how  much  crime,  even  in  the 
most  successful  case,  profited  the  criminals.  In 
the  first  place,  Tracy  was  in  prison  before  it  hap- 
pened. "Western  George,' '  who  solved  the  lock, 
was  murdered.  Patrick  Shevelin,  the  watchman, 
received,  instead  of  the  quarter  of  a  million,  actually 
$1,200  in  cash.  Within  a  few  days  Jimmy  Hope  took 
half  of  this  back  again  on  the  plea  that  it  was  needed 
at  Washington  to  buy  off  legislators  who  were  to 
pass  a  bill  through  Congress  ordering  the  issue  of 
duplicates  in  place  of  the  stolen  securities.  As  an 
actual  fact,  all  Shevelin  ever  profited  from  this  rob- 
bery was  $600. 

Jimmy  Hope  and  John  D.  Grady,  the  fence,  quar- 
reled over  the  disposition  of  the  bonds  and  stocks, 
which  Hope  spirited  away  and  hid  in  the  Middle 
West.  The  dissension  spread  to  other  members  of 
the  gang  and  the  underworld  began  to  hear  details 
of  the  robbery. 

Hope  failed  in  his  efforts  to  prevent  the  passage 
of  the  bill  canceling  the  stolen  securities,  and  then 
came  the  final  blow — the  confession  of  Shevelin. 

Hope  was  caught  in  San  Francisco,  his  son, 
Johnny  Hope,  was  captured  in  Philadelphia  while 
trying  to  dispose  of  some  of  the  bonds — and  one 
after  another  the  gang  was  run  down. 

Considered  from  a  technical  viewpoint,  this  rob 
bery  was  the  most  Napoleonic  feat  ever  achieved. 
My  husband,  Ned  Lyons,  said  Hope  ought  to  have 


172  SOPHIE  LYONS 

managed  without  the  aid  of  Shevelin  or,  if  his  aid 
was  absolutely  necessary,  he  should  have  been  killed. 
This  point  of  view  regarding  murder  is  one  of  the 
distinguishing  differences  between  my  husband  and 
Jimmy  Hope. 

And  thus  we  find  that  the  greatest  bank  robbery 
in  the  history  of  the  world,  which  enlisted  the  time, 
brains,  and  special  skill  of  a  dozen  able  men  over  a 
long  period  of  time,  resulted  in  failure  to  dispose 
>f  the  valuable  securities,  and  landed  sooner  or 
later  most  of  the  operators  in  prison.  If  an  enter- 
prise of  such  magnitude,  successfully  accomplished, 
was  not  worth  while,  then  surely  crime  dobs  not 
pat! 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS    173 
CHAPTER  Vn 

BANK  BURGLARS  WHO  DISGUISED  THEMSELVES  AS  POLICE- 
MEN, AND  OTHER  INGENIOUS  SCHEMES  USED  BY 
THIEVES  IN  BOLD  ATTEMPTS  TO  GET  THEIR  PLUNDER 

No  honest  man  can  accumulate  a  million  dollars 
without  constant  industry,  self-denial,  perseverance, 
and  ability. 

The  same  is  true  of  the  professional  criminal. 
In  addition,  he  must  possess  ingenuity,  tact,  and 
resourcefulness  of  a  high  order. 

I  have  mentioned  a  number  of  professional  crim- 
inals who,  in  the  course  of  their  careers,  obtained 
over  a  million  dollars  apiece.  Although  these  men 
accumulated  vast  fortunes,  there  was  not  a  single 
one  of  them  who  really  derived  any  lasting  benefit 
out  of  his  ill-gotten  gains.  Many  of  them  spent  a 
large  portion  of  their  lives  in  jail.  Behind  prison 
walls,  their  buried  loot  availed  them  nothing.  Oth- 
ers dissipated  their  fortunes  almost  as  rapidly  as 
they  made  them  and  their  last  years  were  spent  in 
poverty.    Some  of  them  died  violent  deaths. 

Yet  every  one  of  these  men,  as  I  have  intimated, 
possessed  valuable  qualities  which,  had  they  been 
put  to  a  legitimate  use,  would  undoubtedly  have 
brought  them  wealth  without  any  of  the  penalties 
incident  to  a  life  of  crime.  Living  honestly  they 
might  not  have  accumulated  millions,  but  their  skill, 
ingenuity,    and   perseverance    would    undoubtedly 


174  SOPHIE  LYONS 

have  netted  them  large  incomes,  and  they  might 
have  enjoyed  the  peace  of  mind  which  none  but  the 
law-abiding  can  know. 

Without  the  ability  which  these  men  possessed,  it 
would  be  useless  for  anyone  to  hope  to  achieve  the 
"success"  which  attended  their  criminal  operations. 
But  anyone  possessing  their  ability  would  be  most 
ill-advised  to  attempt  to  follow  in  their  footsteps 
when  their  careers  have  so  clearly  demonstrated 
that  crime  cannot  pay.  Whereas,  if  properly  ap- 
plied, such  ability  must  inevitably  bring  success. 

I  intend  to  give  you  some  idea  of  the  skill  and 
resourcefulness  these  men  possessed  by  referring 
in  detail  to  some  of  their  more  remarkable  exploits. 

In  the  course  of  a  criminal  career  covering  some 
forty  years,  Harry  Eaymond,  all-round  burglar, 
committed  several  hundred  important  burglaries. 
It  was  he  who  stole  the  famous  Gainsborough  paint- 
ing, as  I  have  previously  related.  The  magnitude 
of  his  crimes  will  be  indicated  by  the  fact  that  his 
booty  aggregated  between  two  and  three  million 
dollars.  Yet,  despite  the  number  and  importance  of 
this  man's  offenses,  he  was  caught  only  once  in  the 
whole  forty  years,  and  then  through  the  carelessness 
of  an  accomplice.  No  better  proof  of  the  judgment 
and  resourcefulness  of  a  professional  criminal  could 
be  presented  than  such  a  record  as  that. 

His  robbery  of  the  Cape  Town  Post  Office  will 
illustrate  this  point  more  concretely. 

His  first  step  was  to  cultivate  the  friendship  of 
the  Postmaster  of  the  Cape  Town  Post  Office.    He 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAKS  175 

went  a'*,  if,  very  systematically  and  patiently,  but  at 
the  end  of  two  or  three  months  he  had  made  such 
progress  that  he  readily  found  an  opportunity  to 
get  temporary  possession  of  the  post  office  keys. 
That  was  all  that  was  necessary.  He  made  a  wax 
impression  of  them  and  put  the  keys  back  without 
arousing  any  suspicion. 

His  next  step  was  to  prepare  three  parcels  ad- 
dressed to  himself,  and  mailed  them  by  registered 
mail  from  out  of  town.  He  came  in  on  the  same 
train  with  the  packages.  He  waited  until  the  reg- 
istered mail  sacks  had  been  delivered  to  the  Post- 
master and  locked  up  for  the  night,  and  then,  just 
as  his  friend,  the  Postmaster,  was  leaving  for  the 
day,  he  stopped  hurriedly  into  the  post  office  and 
explained  that  it  was  of  great  importance  for  him 
to  get  that  night  certain  packages  he  understood 
were  arriving  by  that  day's  registered  mail.  The 
Postmaster  readily  consented  and  went  back  into 
the  office  with  the  burglar.  He  opened  the  safe  and 
ascertained  that  the  packages  Raymond  had  de- 
scribed were  there,  and  while  he  was  making  certain 
entries  in  his  book,  Raymond  succeeded  in  making 
wax  impressions  of  the  keys  to  the  safe. 

Raymond  now  had  wax  impressions  of  the  keys 
to  the  post  office  itself  and  of  the  keys  in  which  the 
registered  mail  and  other  valuables  were  kept. 
Making  the  keys  from  the  impressions  was  not  a 
very  difficult  task,  although  it  required  many  sub- 
sequent visits  to  the  post  office  and  the  exercise  of 
a  considerable  amount  of  patience  before  the  keys 


176  SOPHIE  LYONS 

were  properly  fitted.  Then  Raymond  waited  for 
the  diamonds  to  come  from  the  mines,  his  plan  to 
get  them  into  the  post  office  safe  having  been  very 
carefully  thought  out. 

At  one  stage  of  the  trip  the  diamond  coach  had 
to  make,  it  was  necessary  for  it  to  cross  a  river. 
This  was  accomplished  by  means  of  a  ferry  which 
was  operated  by  a  wire-rope  cable.  Raymond  de- 
cided to  spoil  this  plan.  Before  the  coach  arrived 
at  the  ferry  he  succeeded  in  severing  the  wire  cable. 
There  was  a  strong  current  running  and  the  ferry- 
boat naturally  drifted  down  the  stream. 

"When  the  coach  arrived  at  the  river,  there  was  no 
ferryboat  to  take  it  across,  and  there  was  no  other 
means  of  fording  the  stream.  As  I  have  mentioned, 
the  schedule  of  the  coach  had  been  arranged  so  that 
it  would  reach  the  docks  just  in  time  to  catch  the 
steamer  for  England.  The  delay  at  the  river  re- 
sulted, as  Raymond  had  known  it  would,  in  the 
coach  missing  the  steamer,  and  the  next  steamer 
wouldn't  sail  for  a  week.  In  the  meanwhile,  the 
diamonds  were  deposited  in  the  post  office  safe. 

It  was  an  easy  matter  for  Raymond  to  get  into 
the  post  office  the  following  night,  and  the  keys  he 
had  made  gave  him  access  to  the  safe.  The  diamonds 
and  other  valuables  he  had  planned  so  cleverly  to 
get  were  worth  $500,000.  He  abstracted  them  all 
and  buried  them. 

Instead  of  fleeing  the  country  with  his  booty,  his 
prudence  dictated  that  he  was  safest  right  there, 
and  he  remained  there  for  months.    Subsequently, 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  177 

he  disposed  of  the  stolen  diamonds  in  London,  but 
he  was  blackmailed  out  of  a  large  portion  of  the 
proceeds  by  the  accomplice  with  whom  he  had  made 
his  first  attempt  to  rob  the  diamond  coach,  and  who 
at  once  concluded  when  he  heard  of  the  successful 
robbery  that  it  was  Raymond  who  had  committed  it. 

Although  it  netted  the  burglars  only  $100,000,  the 
robbery  of  the  Kensington  Savings  Bank  of  Phila- 
delphia was  one  of  the  most  cleverly  arranged 
crimes  of  modern  times. 

The  theft  was  committed  by  a  band  of  the  most 
notorious  bank  burglars  of  the  time,  including  Tom 
MoCormack,  Big  John  Casey,  Joe  Howard,  Jimmy 
Hope,  Worcester  Sam,  George  Bliss,  and  Johnny 
Dobbs.  No  more  competent  crew  of  safe  cracks- 
men could  possibly  have  been  gotten  together. 

On  the  day  these  burglars  planned  to  rob  the 
bank,  the  president  received  information  that  the 
crime  was  contemplated  and  would  probably  be  com- 
mitted that  night  or  the  night  following. 

This  information  came  apparently  from  the  Phila- 
delphia Chief  of  Police,  the  messenger  stating  that 
the  Chief  would  send  down  half  a  dozen  uniformed 
men  that  afternoon,  who  were  to  be  locked  in  the 
bank  that  night.  The  president  was  told  to  keep 
the  information  to  himself  as  it  was  desired  to  catch 
the  burglars  red-handed,  and  it  was  feared  thai 
Ajrord  might  reach  them  of  the  plan  to  trap  them  and 
they  would  be  scared  off. 

That  afternoon  half  a  dozen  uniformed  police- 
men called  at  the  bank  shortly  before  the  closing 


178  SOPHIE  LYONS 

hour.  They  were  called  into  the  office  of  the  presi- 
dent and  introduced  to  the  bank's  two  watchmen. 
After  the  bank  was  closed  the  six  men  were  secreted 
in  different  parts  of  the  building  and  the  watchmen 
were  told  to  obey  whatever  orders  the  policemen 
might  give. 

Nothing  happened  until  about  midnight,  when 
some  of  the  policemen  came  out  of  their  hiding 
places  and  suggested  to  one  of  the  watchmen  that 
it  might  be  a  good  idea  to  send  out  for  some  beer. 
One  of  the  policemen  volunteered  to  take  off  his 
uniform,  but  changed  his  mind,  saying  that  it  would 
perhaps  be  safer  for  one  of  the  watchmen  to  go. 

"If  the  burglars  see  one  of  you  fellows  going  out 
of  the  building,"  he  said  to  the  watchmen,  "they 
will  suspect  nothing,  but  if  they  see  a  strange  face 
leaving  the  bank  at  this  hour  they  will  know  there 
is  something  unusual  going  on."  The  watchmen 
agreed. 

No  sooner  had  the  watchman  left  the  building  than 
one  of  the  policemen  raised  his  nightstick  and 
Drought  it  down  with  all  his  might  on  the  head  of 
the  other  watchman.  The  man  dropped  to  the  floor 
like  a  log.  He  was  quickly  bound  and  gagged  and 
taken  inside  the  cashier's  cage. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  other  watchman  returned 
l  with  the  beer,  and  as  he  set  foot  in  the  room  where 
the  policemen  were  congregated  he  was  accorded 
the  same  treatment. 

The  watchmen  out  of  the  way/  the  six  policemen 
made  their  way  to  the  bank  safe  and  there  a  remark- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  179 

able  scene  was  enacted.  Attired  in  the  regulation 
uniform  of  the  city  police,  with  helmets,  shields, 
and  nightsticks  of  the  official  style,  the  six  "police- 
men" proceeded  to  break  into  the  bank  safe.  As 
their  work  progressed,  some  of  the  men  removed 
their  hats  and  loosened  their  heavy  coats,  but  there 


SOON  AFTER  MIDNIGHT  A  STRANGE  SCENE  WAS  ENACTED 

was  nothing  to  indicate  to  anyone  who  might  have 
witnessed  this  remarkable  piece  of  work  that  the 
men  engaged  in  the  cracking  of  the  safe  were  not 
genuine  policemen.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  of  course, 
♦they  were  six  of  the  cleverest  bank  burglars  in  the 
business. 

"When  the  safe  was  blown  and  the  bank's  funds, 
amounting  to  some  $100,000,  removed,  the  "  police- 
men' '  buttoned  up  their  uniforms,  put  on  their  hats 


180  SOPHIE  LYONS 

and,  opening  the  front  doors  of  the  bank  with  the 
keys  they  took  from  the  unconscious  watchmen,  they 
boldly  marched  in  single  file  into  the  public  street. 

In  planning  out  a  bank  robbery,  or,  indeed,  any 
kind  of  robbery,  a  great  deal  of  time  must  be  given 
over  to  study  of  the  situation  so  that  when  the  day 
of  the  robbery  comes  the  burglars  will  know  just 
what  to  do  and  be  able  to  do  it  promptly.  Often- 
times it  is  necessary  to  wear  a  disguise  so  as  to 
more  surely  carry  out  the  prearranged  plans. 

I  remember  once  disguising  myself  as  a  Quaker 
farmer's  wife  when  we  did  a  job  in  the  section  of 
Pennsylvania  where  the  Quakers  abound.  We  had 
been  over  the  territory  very  carefully  and  picked 
out  a  bank  where  a  considerable  amount  of  money 
was  on  display,  scattered  around  on  the  different 
counters  of  the  bank,  and  we  decided  that  we  could 
go  into  that  bank  in  broad  daylight  and  get  most  of 
the  cash. 

For  several  weeks  we  had  studied  the  methods  in 
vogue  in  the  bank  and  knew  pretty  accurately  where 
the  cashier  and  other  employees  would  be  at  certain 
hours,  and  which  hour  would  be  the  most  favorable 
for  our  work. 

There  were  four  of  us  working  on  this  particular 
robbery,  and  it  was  decided  that  I  should  disguise 
myself  as  a  Quaker  woman  and  pass  the  bank  at  a 
certain  hour.  I  went  around  the  town  for  several 
days  studying  the  costumes  of  the  women  and  finally 
rigged  myself  out  in  the  typical  Quaker  housewife 
atyle. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAKS  181 

I  purchased  a  small  milk  can  and,  as  its  newness 
might  attract  attention,  I  rubbed  the  can  with  dirt 
until  it  took  on  a  time-worn  appearance.  Then  I 
secured  one  of  the  common  baskets  carried  very 
often  by  the  women  who  go  to  market  to  dispose 
of  small  lots  of  vegetables.  For  several  days  my 
pals  and  myself  rehearsed  the  work  we  had  to  do 
so  that  when  the  time  of  action  came  we  were  per- 
fect in  our  parts. 

We  had  found  out  from  our  daily  observations  of 
the  bank  that  the  cashier,  who  was  a  good  deal  of 
a  dandy,  went  out  every  day  at  half  past  twelve  and 
returned  about  1  o  'clock.  Several  of  the  other  clerks 
in  the  bank  went  out  for  their  lunch  at  the  same 
time.  At  fifteen  minutes  to  one  there  were  fewer 
clerks  in  the  bank  than  at  any  other  period  of  the 
day,  and  if  we  were  to  do  our  work  at  all  it  must  be 
accomplished  at  that  time. 

There  was  only  one  drawback  to  this  arrange- 
ment— the  cashier  occasionally  came  back  at  five  or 
ten  minutes  to  one,  and  we  could  not  be  certain  that 
he  would  stay  out  the  full  half  hour  on  the  day  we 
operated.  If  he  came  back  before  1  o'clock  our 
scheme  would  be  frustrated  and  we  would  probably 
be  arrested.  So  it  was  decided  that  I  should  lay 
outside  the  bank  and  intercept  the  cashier  if  he 
should  happen  along  before  my  pals  made  their  get- 
away from  the  bank. 

On  the  day  of  the  robbery  we  were  near  the  bank 
at  half  past  twelve,  and  waited  till  a  quarter  of 
one,  when  we  saw  several  other  clerks  go  out.  Then 


182  SOPHIE  LYONS 

the  rest  of  my  band  hastened  into  the  bank,  and  I 
kept  my  eyes  fixed  on  the  direction  in  which  the 
cashier  usually  came.  The  robbers  who  went  into 
the  bank  had  a  number  of  little  formalities  to  get 
over  before  it  was  possible  to  grab  the  money,  and 
this  took  time. 

/They  had  been  inside  nearly  ten  minutes  when  I 
spied  the  cashier  walking  up  the  street  toward  the 
bank.  As  luck  would  have  it,  he  was  getting  back 
five  minutes  ahead  of  his  usual  time.  I  strolled 
leisurely  to  meet  him,  dressed  up,  of  course,  as  the 
Quaker  housewife,  with  my  basket  full  of  vegetables 
and  can  of  milk  on  my  arm. 

The  cashier  and  I  came  together  in  the  middle 
of  the  block,  about  a  hundred  feet  from  the  bank. 
I  accosted  him  and  asked  for  some  fictitious  address, 
in  a  broken  English  kind  of  lingo,  which  he  could 
not  at  first  understand.  He  was  a  very  polite  young 
man,  and,  of  course,  stopped  to  help  me  out  of  my 
little  difficulty. 

"While  I  was  engaging  the  cashier  in  this  fashion, 
I  kept  my  eyes  rambling  to  the  bank  to  see  if  my 
pals  were  getting  away,  for  if  the  cashier  had  gone 
down  at  that  moment  he  would  see  them  in  the  act 
of  robbing,  and  all  would  be  lost. 

After  holding  the  cashier  for  a  minute  or  two, 
he  became  impatient  at  my  unintelligible  talk  and 
said  he  was  sorry  he  could  not  help  me  and  would 
have  to  be  going.  Now,  under  no  circumstances 
could  I  permit  that  cashier  to  leave  then.  If  neces- 
sary I  would  have  grabbed  him  about  the  neck  and 


QUEEN  OP  THE  BURGLARS  183 

held  him  by  force  until  my  companions  escaped. 
But  a  better  scheme  than  this  suggested  itself;  I 
deliberately  spilled  the  can  of  milk  over  the  cash- 
ier's clothes,  doing  it,  of  course,  in  an  apparently 
innocent  way. 

The  nice  white  milk  settled  all  over  the  young 
man's  vest  and  coat,  and  he  looked  a  sorry  sight 
indeed.  He  was  exasperated  at  my  awkwardness, 
as  he  called  it,  and  took  out  his  handkerchief  to 
wipe  off  the  milk,  and  I,  full  of  sympathy  for  his  de- 
plorable plight,  also  took  out  my  handkerchief  and 
gave  my  assistance.  While  we  were  trying  to  get 
rid  of  the  milk  I  saw  the  robbers  hurry  out  of  the 
bank  and  walk  rapidly  up  the  street.  Then  I  knew 
they  had  gotten  the  cash,  and  it  was  no  longer  neces- 
sary for  me  to  detain  the  cashier.  I  mumbled  my 
apologies  to  the  poor,  milk-bespattered  cashier,  and 
then  hurried  off  down  the  street. 

I  went  into  a  doorway — which  I  had  picked  out  in 
advance,  of  course — and  took  off  my  Quaker  dis- 
guise. Under  the  disguise  I  had  on  my  regular 
clothes.  I  left  the  Quaker  outfit,  milk  ean  and  all, 
in  this  strange  doorway  and  then  hustled  off  to  meet 
my  pals  at  the  rendezvous  previously  agreed  upon. 
We  divided  the  money — we  had  obtained  $90,000 — 
and  stayed  in  the  town  a  few  days. 

In  the  papers  the  next  morning  there  was  a  big 
account  of  the  robbery,  and  the  additional  state- 
ment that  the  robbers  had  overlooked  another  pack- 
age of  moiir?/  containing  $150,000.  We  were  shocked 
by  this  piece  of  information,  and  the  poor  robber 


184  SOPHIE  LYONS 

whose  duty  it  was  to  collect  the  money  in  the  bank 
was  roundly  upbraided  for  getting  a  miserable 
ninety  thousand  when  he  could  also  have  taken  the 
$150,000  if  he  had  not  been  such  a  bungler.  He 
swore  by  every  deity  that  the  papers  were  wrong, 
for  he  had  searched  very  carefully  and  there  was 
no  other  money  in  sight  when  he  left  the  place.  How- 
ever, we  could  never  forgive  this  chap  for  his  over- 
Bight,  because  we  believed  the  papers  had  the  thing 
right,  and  we  disputed  about  the  matter  so  much 
that  the  gang,  or  " party,' '  as  we  of  the  criminal 
fraternity  call  it,  had  to  be  disbanded,  and  we  went 
our  separate  ways,  good  friends,  of  course,  but  no 
longer  co-workers. 

It  is  the  custom  among  bank  robbers  to  demand 
that  each  member  of  a  party  do  his  work  properly. 
If  any  one  of  them  makes  a  failure,  or  does  not 
come  up  to  expectations,  he  is  discharged  from  the 
party.  The  method  of  discharging  a  member  ia 
peculiar.  The  leader  will  say  to  him:  "When  are 
you  going  home,  Jack? "  and  he  will  hand  him  some 
money.  "When  are  you  going  home!"  means  we 
don't  want  you  with  us  any  more.  I  might  say,  in 
concluding  this  experience,  that  one  of  the  men  who 
took  part  in  this  robbery  is  now  living  in  Philadel- 
phia and  highly  respected.  He  long  since  gave  up 
his  criminal  associations  and  went  into  business  for 
himself  and  has  made  a  great  deal  of  monr.y  by  his 
own  honest  efforts. 

The  other  man  died  in  prison.  His  was  thft  fate 
of  many  another  professional  criminal.     Ke  had 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  185 

gambled  away  most  of  the  money  lie  secured  from 
his  illegal  trade  and,  in  addition,  he  served  twenty 
years  of  his  life  behind  prison  walls. 

Not  even  the  cleverest  men  in  the  business  have 
profited  by  their  skill.  They  may  prosper  for  a 
brief  hour,  but  in  the  end  they  are  forced  to  tke 
conclusion  that  ceime  does  not  pay! 


186  SOPHIE  LYONS 


chapter  vrn 

PROMOTERS  OF  CRIME — PEOPLE  WHO  PLAN  ROBBERIES  AND 
ACT  AS  "BACKERS' '  FOR  PROFESSIONAL  CRIMINALS; 
THE  EXTRAORDINARY  "  MOTHER"  MANDELBAT7M, 
"QUEEN  OF  THE  THIEVES,"  AND  GRADY,  WHO  HAD 
HALF  A  DOZEN  GANGS  OF  CRACKSMEN  WORKING  FOE 
HIM 

If  there  is  any  one  familiar  adage  that  fits  every 
criminal  in  the  underworld  it  is  "Easy  come,  easy 
go."  Surely  there  is  a  curse  on  stolen  money. 
More  than  once  in  my  former  life  I  have  received 
$50,000  as  my  share  in  a  Sunday  morning  bank 
burglary — and  by  the  next  Saturday  night  not  even 
a  five-dollar  bill  remained. 

Professional  thieves  are  rich  one  day  and  poor 
the  iiext.  The  fact  that  more  money  is  always  to 
be  had  without  the  hard  labor  which  brings  honest 
reward  makes  thieves  as  improvident  as  children. 
All  thieves  are  gamblers — scarcely  in  all  my  ac- 
quaintances can  I  recall  even  one  exception.  Some- 
times the  entire  proceeds  of  a  robbery  are  lost  in  a 
gambling  house  within  twenty-four  hours  after  the 
crime. 

And  this  is  how  it  has  come  about  that  all  over 
the  world,  in  every  big  city,  there  are  "backers" 
of  thieves;  men,  and  sometimes  women,  who  take 
the  stolen  goods  off  their  hands,  find  hiding  places 
for  criminals  who  are  being  pursued,  advance  money 


^■^T>>^^*^,J^^,»-^.^-^vu^^^;':f^.J,,l^;^M^u,;,,.l ... 


MOTHER"    MANDELBAUM'S  FAKE  CHIMNEY  AND  SECRET  HIDIKG 
PLACE  FOR  STOLEN  JEWELS. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAKS  187 

to  them  when  they  are  out  of  funds,  and  even  pay 
the  expenses  of  their  families  when  the  burglars 
get  into  prison. 

Some  of  these  friends  of  thieves  are  really  pro- 
moters of  criminal  enterprises.  They  name  the 
banks  and  jewelry  shops  that  are  to  be  robbed  and 
select  the  residences  of  wealthy  persons  that  are 
to  be  entered.  They  are  like  the  backers  of  the- 
atrical enterprises  who  put  up  the  money  for  the 
necessary  expenses  and  advance  the  salaries  of  the 
actors;  they  are  like  the  promoters  in  the  mining 
world  who  pay  for  the  tools,  the  pack  animals,  and 
who  " grub-stake' '  the  miners  to  outfit  them  on 
prospecting  tours  in  the  mountains. 

QUEEN  OP  THE  THIEVES 

Curiously  enough  the  greatest  crime  promoter  of 
modern  times  was  a  New  York  woman,  " Mother' ' 
Mandelbaum.  Alas !  I  knew  her  well — too  well.  A 
hundred,  yes,  perhaps  near  five  hundred  transac- 
tions I  have  had  with  her,  little  and  big.  Many  were 
entirely  on  my  own  account,  oftentimes  I  dealt  with 
her  in  behalf  of  thieves  who  were  in  hiding  or  in 
need  of  help  or  were  in  jail. 

Nobody  anywhere  did  such  a  wholesale  business 
in  stolen  goods  or  had  such  valuable  associations 
among  big  criminals.  " Mother"  Mandelbaum,  of 
course,  cracked  no  safes,  she  did  not  risk  her  skin 
in  house  burglaries,  her  fat  hand  was  never  caught 
in  anybody's  pocket,  no  policeman's  bullet  was  ever 


188  SOPHIE  LYONS 

sent  after  her  fleeing  figure.  Here,  then,  we  nave 
a  dealer  in  erime  pretty  shrewdly  protected  from 
the  dangers  that  beset  criminals.  And  yet  I  shall 
once  again  prove  to  my  readers  and  from  this  very 
woman  who  was  the  uncrowned  "  Queen  of  the 
Thieves,' '  rich,  powerful,  and  protected  by  the  po- 
lice— from  this  very  u Mother"  Mandelbaum  I  shall 
again  show  that  ckime  does  not  pay  ! 

But  was  this  woman  exceptionally  unlucky!  No. 
I  will  recount  to  you  also  the  career  of  John  D. 
Grady,  her  very  remarkable  rival  in  the  same  field 
of  criminal  promotion — the  man  who  financed  the 
great  $3,000,000  Manhattan  Bank  robbery  and  had 
the  famous  Jimmy  Hope  and  his  band  of  expert 
cracksmen  in  his  employ.  From  Grady  I  will  also 
prove  the  great  moral  truth  that  surely  crime  does 
not  pay  ! 

" Mother' '  Mandelbaum's  real  name  was  Mrs. 
William  Mandelbaum.  She  was  born  in  Germany 
of  poor  but  respectable  parentage.  As  a  young 
woman  she  arrived  in  America  without  a  friend  or 
relative.  But  her  coarse,  heavy  features,  powerful 
physique,  and  penetrating  eye  were  sufficient  pro- 
tection and  chaperone  for  anyone.  It  is  »ot  likely 
that  anyone  ever  forced  unwelcome  attentions  on 
this  particular  immigrant. 

Arrived  in  New  York  she  was  compelled  to  pawn 
one  or  two  gold  trinkets  while  looking  for  work. 
This  brought  her  in  touch  with  the  flourishing  pawn- 
shop business. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BUR&LARS  189 

ENCOURAGING  PICKPOCKETS 

The  pawn  shops  were  practically  unregulated  by 
law  in  those  days  and  the  German  girl's  painful  ex- 
perience as  a  customer,  instead  of  making  her  an- 
gry, impressed  her  with  great  admiration.  There 
was  a  field  for  an  ambitious  person,  and  if  ambition 
is  a  virtue  none  was  ever  more  virtuous  in  that  par- 
ticular than  ' ' Mother.' ' 

But  how  to  enter  this  profitable  industry  was 
the  question.  To  be  a  pawn-broker  has  always  re- 
quired capital.  That  is,  it  always  has  for  anyone 
but  this  woman,  who  had  none.  She  made  a  hurried 
survey  of  the  pawn  shops  along  the  Bowery  and 
elsewhere,  and  among  others  noticed  the  place  of 
one  William  Mandelbaum. 

William  was  unmarried,  rather  weak  willed  for  a 
man  of  his  calling,  lazy,  and  afflicted  with  chronic 
dyspepsia.  He  cooked  his  own  meals  over  a  kero- 
sene lamp,  which  was  undoubtedly  the  cause  of  his 
indigestion.  "Mother"  Mandelbaum  introduced 
herself  as  Fredericka  Goldberg,  and  offered  to  cook 
and  tend  store  at  nominal  wages. 

The  "nominal  wages"  item  secured  her  the  posi- 
tion and  the  cooking  made  her  firm  in  it.  Within 
a  week,  William's  digestion  was  better  than  he  could 
ever  remember  since  boyhood ;  he  had  gained  seven 
pounds  in  weight  and  business  was  growing  beauti- 
fully— all  on  account  of  the  capable  Fredericka. 

At  the  end  of  the  week,  William  and  Fredericka 
had  a  business  talk.    Fredericka  didn't  want  an  in- 


190  SOPHIE  LYONS 

crease  in  wages.  She  didn't  want  any  wages  at  all. 
It  was  partnership  or  nothing.  William  ate  one 
meal  cooked  by  himself  and  then  surrendered. 
Within  a  few  weeks  they  were  married.  Mrs.  Man- 
delbaum  forever  afterward  was  the  head  of  the 
house  of  Mandelbaum. 

Among  her  customers  Mrs.  Mandelbaum  noticed 
an  occasional  one  who  would  hurry  in  and  get  what 
he  could  on  a  miscellany  of  watches  and  small  pieces 
of  jewelry.  These  hasty,  furtive  young  men  and 
boys  took  what  they  could  get  and  showed  little  dis- 
position to  haggle.  Also,  they  never  returned  to 
redeem  their  pledges. 

The  new  head  of  the  house  encouraged  these  cus- 
tomers, who  were,  of  course,  pickpockets.  At  first, 
through  ignorance,  and  later,  as  a  matter  of  policy, 
Mrs.  Mandelbaum  was  more  liberal  in  her  terms 
than  was  customary.  Some  pawn-brokers  would 
not  accept  anything  from  a  pickpocket  if  they  knew 
it.  The  others  took  advantage  of  the  pickpocket's 
peril  of  the  law  to  drive  the  hardest  possible  terms. 

It  was  not  long  before  Mandelbaum 's  had  the 
lion's  share  of  the  pickpocket  business.  One  who 
disposes  of  stolen  goods  is  known  as  a  " fence,"  and 
Mrs.  Mandelbaum  soon  became  one  of  tfye  most  im- 
portant "fences"  for  pickpockets  in  the  city. 

As  the  pawn  shop  grew  more  and  more  notorious, 
the  weight  of  the  police  grew  heavier  and  heavier 
on  the  proprietress.  She  dealt  less  liberally  with 
pickpockets  than  before.    She  squeezed  them  to  the 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  191 

last  notch,  but  they  still  remained  her  customer^ 
for  she  was  no  harder  than  the  other  fences. 

In  order  to  meet  the  ever  increasing  blackmail 
of  the  police,  Mrs.  Mandelbanm  found  it  necessary 
to  steadily  enlarge  her  business.  Carefully  she  de- 
veloped a  system  for  scattering  her  stock  so  that 
her  New  York  headquarters  never  contained  a  very 
large  stock  of  stolen  goods.  She  kept  men  busy 
melting  down  gold  and  silver  and  disguising  jewelry 
and  others  ferreting  out  supposedly  honest  mer- 
chants who  were  willing  to  buy  her  wares  and  ask 
no  questions. 

It  must  always  be  borne  in  mind  in  these  articles 
that  crime  cannot  be  carried  on  by  individuals.  It 
requires  an  elaborate  permanent  organization. 
While  the  individual  operators,  from  pickpockets  to 
bank  burglars,  come  and  go,  working  from  coast 
to  coast,  they  must  be  affiliated  with  some  perma- 
nent substantial  person  who  is  in  touch  with  the 
police.  Such  a  permanent  head  was  " Mother* *. 
Mandelbaum. 

The  field  of  usefulness  to  thieves  of  the  big 
"fences"  like  " Mother"  Mandelbaum  and  Grady 
are  infinite.  Suppose  you  are  a  burglar  and  last- 
night's  labors  resulted  mostly  in  jewelry  and  silver- 
ware, you  would  have  neither  the  time  nor  the  plant 
to  melt  down  the  silver  and  disguise  or  unset  the 
stones.  "Mother"  Mandelbaum  would  attend  to  alJ 
that  for  you  on  about  a  75  per  cent,  commission. 

This  wonderful  woman  kept  certain  persons  busy 
on  salary  melting  down  silver.    Others  worked  stead- 


192  SOPHIE  LYONS 

ily  altering,  unsetting,  and  otherwise  disguising 
jewelry. 

What  would  you  do  with  a  stolen  watch  which 
bore,  deeply  engraved  on  the  back,  the  name  and 
address  of  its  rightful  owner?  You  might  melt 
down  the  case  and  get  a  little  something  for  the 
works,  but  "Mother"  would  do  better.  She  would 
turn  it  over  to  one  of  her  engravers  who  would 
rapidly  and  not  inartistically  engrave  a  little  scene 
or  decoration  on  the  watch  case,  completely  mask- 
ing the  name  and  address. 

A  stolen  automobile  is  the  worst  kind  of  a  "white 
elephant* '  on  your  hands  unless  you  know  where 
to  take  it.  Every  city  has  its  plants  where  a  stolen 
car  is  quickly  made  over,  usually  into  a  taxicab,  and 
so  well  disguised  that  its  former  owner  may  pay 
for  a  ride  in  it  without  suspicion. 

The  force  of  artisans  and  mechanics  employed 
on  the  fruits  of  burglaries  and  pocket  picking  is  sev- 
eral thousand  in  a  city  the  size  of  New  York  or  Chi- 
cago. 

All  burglars  and  thieves  are  busy  with  their  own 
enterprises,  and  have  no  time  to  look  after  all  these 
matters.  Somebody  there  must  be  who  will  organize 
these  first  aids  to  the  captured  criminals — the 
"squarers  of  squealers/ '  the  lawyers,  the  men  to 
provide  bail,  etc.  Such  a  one  was  "Mother"  Man- 
delbaum. 

Hacks,  taxicabs,  express  wagons,  and  even  mov- 
ing vans  must  be  readily  available.  Peddlers  are 
extremely  useful.    They  prowl  about  wherever  they 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  193 

please  and  act  as  advance  men  for  the  burglars. 
Keeping  peddlers  and  tramps  off  your  premises  is 
one  of  the  best  forms  of  burglar  insurance. 

The  army  of  enemies  of  society  must  have  its  gen- 
eral, and  I  believe  that  probably  the  greatest  of 
them  all  was  "Mother"  Mandelbaum. 

BOBBING    TIFFANY 

Of  all  the  stolen  things  brought  into  her  shop, 
Mrs.  Mandelbaum  preferred  diamonds.  She  rap- 
idly became  an  expert  on  stones  and  they  presented 
few  difficulties. 

A  stone  once  outside  its  setting  usually  bears  no 
11 earmarks"  by  which  it  can  be  identified.  Nothing 
is  so  easily  hidden  nor  so  imperishable  as  a  diamond, 
and,  as  everyone  knows,  they  have  an  unfailing 
market  She  exhorted  her  pickpocket  customers  to 
specialize  on  stickpins,  and  doubtless  they  did  their 
best  to  please  her. 

While  pickpockets  are  "pickers,"  they  cannot  al- 
ways be  choosers,  and  the  percentage  of  diamonds 
remained  disappointingly  low.  This  interest  in 
diamonds  brought  the  "fence"  to  visit  Tiffany's 
several  times.  She  stole  nothing,  in  fact,  I  am  sure 
"Mother"  never  stole  anything  in  her  life.  But 
it  cost  her  nothing  to  examine  and  admire  the  beau- 
tiful stones,  and  during  one  of  her  visits  she  was 
struck  with  an  ingenious  idea  which  marked  the 
•econd  step  in  her  career.    She  planned  a  robbery. 

In  the  rear  of  the  Mandelbaum  store  a  consulta- 


194  SOPHIE  LYONS 

tion  was  held  between  the  proprietress,  a  confidence 
man  known  as  "Swell"  Kobinson,  and  a  shoplifter, 
just  arrived  from  Chicago,  by  the  name  of  Mary 
Wallenstein. 

Robrnson,  as  his  name  would  indicate,  was  a  man 
of  good  clothes  and  presence.  He  walked  into  Tif- 
fany's, went  to  the  diamond  counter,  and  spent  a 
long  time  examining  the  big  stones.  After  about 
twenty  minutes  of  questioning  he  was  unable  to 
make  up  his  mind  and  decided  to  think  the  matter 
over  and  return  later. 

One  of  the  stones  valued  at  about  $8,000  was  miss- 
ing, and  the  clerk  very  apologetically  asked  Robin- 
son to  wait  a  moment  while  he  searched  for  it.  A 
dozen  employees  hunted  and  counted  the  stones 
while  Robinson  grew  more  and  more  indignant  at 
the  evident  suspicion  that  he  had  taken  the  stone. 

At  last  things  came  to  a  head  and  Robinson  was 
led  to  a  room  and  searched. 

Nothing  was  found  and  the  store,  knowing  they 
had  been  somehow  robbed,  were  compelled  to  let 
him  go.  The  excitement  had  not  quieted  down  when 
Mary  appeared. 

She  went  to  the  same  counter  and  stood  exactly 
where  Robinson  had  been.  She  examined  one  or 
two  small  diamonds  and,  like  Robinson,  she  con- 
eluded  to  go  home  and  think  it  over.  There  was  no 
objection  made,  for  there  was  nothing  missing  this 
time.  An  hour  later  she  handed  the  $8,000  gem  to 
"Mother"  Mandelbaum. 

The  following  morning  the  man  who  polished  the 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  195 

counters  at  Tiffany's  found  a  piece  of  chewing  gum 
wedged  underneath  the  counter  where  nobody  would 
see  it.  Inspection  of  the  gum  revealed  the  impres- 
sion of  the  facets  of  a  diamond  of  the  general  size 
of  the  missing  stone.  Then  everyone  understood. 
The  man  had  placed  the  gum  beneath  the  counter 
when  he  came  in.  At  his  first  opportunity  he  stuck 
the  diamond  in  it.  The  girl  coming  in  later  had 
only  to  feel  along  the  counter  and  remove  the  gem 
to  make  the  theft  complete. 

This  first  robbery  planned  by  " Mother' '  Man- 
delbaum  was  so  delightfully  successful  that  the  pick- 
pocket industry  seemed  slow  by  comparison.  The 
chewing  gum  trick  could  not  be  worked  again,  be- 
cause the  jewelers'  association  had  notified  all  its 
members  of  the  new  scheme.  It  was  a  short  step 
from  jewel-stealing  to  sneak-thief  operations  in 
banks.  Sneak  thieves  and  confidence  men  began  to 
frequent  the  back  rooms  of  the  Mandelbaum  estab- 
lishment. It  became  a  clearing  house  for  crimes  of 
larceny — big  and  small. 

Many  able  and  successful  burglars  are  unimagi- 
native, and,  left  to  their  own  devices,  would  never 
discover  anything  to  rob.  These  earnest  but  un- 
imaginative souls  hung  about  the  premises  as  if  it 
were  an  employment  agency  waiting  for  the  "boss" 
to  find  a  job  suited  to  their  particular  talents. 

DRY    GOODS    STORE    THIEVES 

On  the  other  hand,  timid  but  shrewd  and  observ- 
ant persons  frequently  saw  chances  to  steal  which 


196  SOPHIE  LYONS 

they  dared  not  undertake.  Servants  of  wealthy- 
New  York  families  learned  that  " Mother' '  Mandel- 
baum  paid  well  for  tips  and  plans  of  houses. 

Next  came  employees  of  wholesale  and  retail  dry 
goods  houses. 

To  handle  bales  of  silk  and  woolen,  furs,  blankets, 
and  other  bulky  but  valuable  merchandise  presented 
new  problems.  To  meet  these  Mrs.  Mandelbaum 
moved  her  establishment  to  larger  quarters.  She 
retained  the  pawnbroking  department,  but  added  a 
miscellaneous  store,  in  which  she  carried  for  sale 
most  all  the  articles  found  in  a  country  store. 

She  was  now  the  mother  of  three  children,  two 
daughters  and  a  son — Julius.  One  of  the  daughters 
married  a  Twelfth  Ward  Tammany  politician.  This 
political  alliance  was  extremely  valuable.  It  made 
the  police  more  moderate  in  their  extortion  for  im- 
munity, and  was  the  means  of  obtaining  pardons, 
light  sentences,  and  general  miscarriage  of  justice 
on  the  part  of  judges. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  atmosphere  of  "Mother" 
Mandelbaum's  place  on  the  corner  of  Clinton  and 
Eivington  Streets.  In  the  front  was  the  general 
store,  innocent  enough  in  appearance;  and,  in  fact, 
the  goods  were  only  part  stolen,  and  these  of  such  a 
character  that  they  could  not  possibly  be  identified. 

" Mother' '  Mandelbaum  led  a  life  which  left  her 
open  to  many  dangers  from  many  different  direc- 
tions. Every  member  of  the  underworld  knew  that 
stolen  goods  of  great  value  were  constantly  coming 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  197 

into  her  resort  and  from  time  to  time  schemes  were 
devised  to  plunder  the  famous  old  "fence." 

Mrs.  Mandelbaum  always  sat  inside  of  a  window 
which  was  protected  by  strong  steel  slats.  The 
door  to  the  room  was  of  heavy  oak.  It  was  impos- 
sible, thus  protected,  for  anybody  to  make  a  sudden 
rush  and  catch  "Mother"  Mandelbaum  off  her 
guard. 

But,  realizing  that  thieves  might  at  any  moment 
raid  her  establishment  and  finally  force  their  way 
into  her  den,  she  provided  still  another  safeguard. 

THE    SECEET   OF    THE    CHIMNEY 

"Mother"  Mandelbaum  had  a  special  chimney 
built  in  her  den,  where  she  kept  a  little  wood  fire 
burning  during  the  winter  and  kept  the  fireplace 
filled  with  old  trash  during  the  hot  season.  This 
chimney  was  peculiarly  constructed,  and  had  a  false 
back  behind  the  fire,  and  in  this  cavity  was  hidden 
a  little  dumb-waiter.  In  front  of  the  dumb-waiter 
was  a  false  iron  chimney  back  on  a  hinge  that  could 
be  let  dawn.  She  constructed  a  special  brick  wall 
so  that  it  appeared  to  be  the  regular  wall  of  the 
house. 

In  case  of  sudden  emergency,  "Mother"  Mandel- 
baum could  gather  up  any  diamonds  or  stolen  goods 
which  might  be  incriminating,  pull  down  the  false 
chimney  back,  which  fell  down  over  the  fire,  stow 
away  the  telltale  valuable  in  the  hidden  dumb- 
waiter, push  the  dumb-waiter  up  out  of  sight  into 


198  SOPHIE  LYONS 

the  chimney,  and  push  back  into  place  the  false 
chimney  back.  This  simple  operation  concluded) 
"Mother"  Mandelbaum  was  then  ready  to  face  a 
search  or  a  holdup. 

If  ever  anybody  lived  in  the  proverbial  "glass 
house,"  surely  it  was  "Mother"  Mandelbaum — and 
she  knew  it.  Her  establishment  was  ostensibly  a 
general  store  and  a  pawnbroker's  office,  which  she 
maintained  in  the  front  room,  but  Mrs.  Mandelbaum 
also  dealt  in  stolen  goods  of  all  kinds  and  planned 
robberies  with  thieves  and  often  sheltered,  protected, 
and  hid  thieves  in  times  of  trouble. 

"Mother"  Mandelbaum  was  never  seen  in  the 
front  room,  where  a  clerk  was  always  kept  on  guard. 
She  kept  out  of  reach  in  an  inside  room,  behind  the 
window  with  the  steel  grating.  Her  false  chimney 
and  secret  dumb-waiter  arrangement,  as  already 
explained,  was  in  this  room.  In  another  room, 
"Mother"  Mandelbaum  kept  two  or  three  employees 
busy  removing  stolen  jewels  from  their  settings  and 
engraving  designs  to  cover  up  and  hide  monograms 
and  identification  marks  on  watches,  jewelry,  and 
silverware. 

"mother's"  glass  house 

In  an  adjoining  room  were  kept  bulky  articles 
and  stolen  goods,  such  as  fur  coats,  etc.  Here,  too, 
the  price  tags,  factory  numbers,  and  other  marks 
were  always  removed  from  stolen  furs,  laces,  and 
silks.  One  of  the  back  rooms  contained  beds  where 
thieves  were  lodged  when  occasion  demanded.  Still 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  199 

another  room  was  a  store  room  where  crates  and 
cases  of  stolen  goods  were  packed  up  for  shipment 
to  her  customers.  At  the  end  of  the  passageway 
leading  to  one  of  the  rooms  was  a  secret  trap  door. 
In  case  of  a  raid  by  the  police,  and  if  her  front  and 
back  doors  were  guarded  by  detectives,  she  could 
use  the  trap  door  to  let  thieves  escape  down  through' 
a  hole  in  the  basement  wall  which  led  up  into  the 
house  next  door,  which  " Mother' '  Mandelbaum  also 
owned  under  another  name. 

Gradually  "Mother"  Mandelbaum 's  clientele  of 
crooks  increased  in  number  and  importance  until 
she  had  only  one  real  rival,  John  D.  Grady,  knows 
as  "Old  Supers  and  Slangs." 

Grady  had  a  more  distinguished  body  of  bank 
burglars  under  his  sway  than  had  "Mother."  Bank 
burglars  are  the  aristocrats  of  the  underworld,  just 
as  pickpockets  are  the  lowest. 

When  the  Manhattan  Bank  robbery  was  planned 
and  executed,   "Mother"   Mandelbaum  was  much 
humiliated  that  she  could  not  command  the  financing 
and   planning    of    the    splendid    project.     It   was 
Grady's  funds  which  financed  the  undertaking,  and 
poor  "Mother"  lost  her  one  pet  and  star,  "Western 
George"  Howard.    Howard,  in  many  ways,  was  thf 
greatest  of  bank  burglars,  and  he  was  rated  bj 
many  as  superior  to  Grady's  Jimmy  Hope.    In  an 
other  chapter  I  told  you  how  "Western  George" 
made  the  Manhattan  Bank  robbery  possible  and 
then  was  murdered. 

After  Grady's  tragic  death,  "Mother"  Mandel- 


200  SOPHIE  LYONS 

baum  was  the  undisputed  financier,  guide,  counsellor, 
and  friend  of  crime  in  New  York. 

For  twenty-five  years  she  lived  on  the  proceeds 
of  other  people's  crimes.  During  that  time  she 
made  many  millions.  But  these  millions  slipped 
away  for  the  most  part  in  bribing,  fixing,  and  silenc- 
ing people. 

Still  she  was  a  very  wealthy,  fat,  ugly  old  woman 
when  the  blow  fell.  Mary  Holbrook,  a  shoplifter 
and  old-time  ally  of  Mrs.  Mandelbaum,  had  a  serious 
row  with  her.  This  row  was  the  beginning  of 
"Mother's"  end. 

Soon  after  Mary  was  arrested,  and,  of  course, 
applied  for  help  from  the  usual  source.  Not  a  cent 
would  the  old  woman  give  her  for  bail,  counsel  fees, 
or  even  for  special  meals  in  the  Tombs.  Mary  was 
desperate,  and  sent  for  the  District  Attorney.  It 
just  happened  that  District  Attorney  Olney  was  an 
honest  man.  He  listened  to  Mary's  tale  about 
"Mother"  Mandelbaum,  and  acted. 

"Mother"  Mandelbaum,  her  son  Julius,  and  Her* 
man  Stoude,  one  of  her  employees,  were  arrested, 

"Abe"  Hummel  did  his  best,  but  the  indictment 
held,  and  there  was  a  mass  of  evidence  sure  to 
swamp  her  at  the  trial.  But  "Mother"  did  not 
wait  for  the  trial.  She  and  the  others  "jumped" 
their  bail  and  escaped  to  Canada. 

Here  she  lived  a  few  years  a  wretched  and  broke* 
figure,  yearning  and  working  to  get  back  to  the 
haunts  she  loved.  But  neither  her  money  nor  her 
political  friends  were  able  to  secure  her  immunity* 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BUEGLAKS  201 

Once  she  did  sneak  to  New  York  for  a  few  hours 
and  escaped  unnoticed.  It  was  at  the  time  of  her 
daughter's  funeral,  which  she  watched  from  a  dis- 
tance, unable  to  attend  publicly. 

Though  " Mother' '  Mandelbaum  had  money  when 

she  died,  yet  she  was  an  exiled,  broken-hearted  old 

rtwoman,  whose  money  did  her  no  good.    Unusually 

'talented  woman  that  she  was,  it  took  most  of  her 

lifetime  for  her  to  learn  the  lesson  that  crime  does 

not  pay! 

And  now  let  us  take  a  look  at  Grady,  Mrs.  Mandel- 
baum 's  great  rival.  Did  this  remarkable  man  find 
that  crime  paid  in  the  long  run? 

GRADY   THE    DARING 

John  D.  Grady,  known  to  the  police  and  the  under- 
world as  "Old  Supers  and  Slangs,' '  probably  never 
handled  as  much  money  or  had  his  finger  in  quite 
so  many  crimes  as  "Mother"  Mandelbaum.  His 
career,  too,  was  somewhat  shorter,  but  it  made  up 
for  these  defects  in  the  unequaled  daring  and  mag- 
nitude of  his  exploits. 

"Mother"  Mandelbaum  "played  safe."  Not  so 
John  D.  Grady.  His  was  a  desperate  game,  well 
played  for  splendid  stakes,  with  risks  few  men  would 
care  to  take,  and  with  all  the  elements  of  romance 
and  a  tragic  death  to  cap  it. 

Grady,  like  "Mother"  Mandelbaum,  was  a 
"fence,"  but,  while  she  dealt  in  everything,  Grady 
specialized  in  diamonds.    He  had  an  office  opposite 


202  SOPHIE  LYONS 

the  Manhattan  Bank,  which  bore  the  sign,  "John 
D.  Grady,  Diamond  Merchant." '  From  the  windows 
of  this  office,  Grady,  Jimmy  Hope,  and  his  gang 
gazed  hungrily  across  at  the  bank  and  plotted  its 
ruin.  Up  to  the  actual  day  of  the  robbery,  Hope 
and  Grady  were  in  accord  on  all  plans.  Afterward 
the  two  leaders  quarreled  over  the  disposition  of 
the  bonds.  Hope  had  his  way  and  there  is  little 
doubt  that  had  Grady  taken  charge  of  the  two  mil- 
lion dollars  of  securities  he  would  have  succeeded 
in  selling  them,  whereas  Hope  failed. 

"While  " Mother' '  Mandelbaum  was  building  up 
her  trade  with  pickpockets  and  shoplifters,  Grady 
was  carrying  his  business  about  in  a  satchel.  No 
man  ever  took  greater  chances.  At  all  hours  of  the 
night  this  short,  stocky  man  went  about  the  darkest 
and  most  dangerous  parts  of  New  York.  In  the 
little  black  satchel,  as  every  criminal  knew,  was  a 
fortune  in  diamonds. 

When  a  thief  had  made  a  haul,  Grady  would  meet 
him  at  any  time  or  place  he  pleased  and  take  the 
diamonds  off  his  hands.  Only  once  was  he  "  sand- 
bagged' '  and  robbed  of  several  thousand  dollars 
worth  of  the  stones.  He  took  the  misfortune  in 
good  part,  said  it  was  his  own  fault,  and  never  took 
revenge  on  the  men  who  robbed  him. 

STEAM-DRILL  BURGLARY 

While  " Mother' '  Mandelbaum  engineered  house 
and  dry  goods  store  robberies,  Grady  set  his  mind 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  203 

and  energies  on  the  great  banks.  As  bold  as  the 
Manhattan  affair  was  his  assault  on  a  West  Side 
bank.  The  vaults  of  this  bank  were  surrounded 
by  a  three-foot  wall  of  solid  concrete. 

Grady  opened  a  first-class  saloon  next  door,  and 
as  soon  as  he  got  his  bearings  installed  a  steam 
'engine  in  the  cellar.  This  engine  was  supposed  to 
run  the  electric  light  dynamo  and  an  air  pump.  In 
reality  it  was  there  to  drill  a  hole  into  the  bank  next 
door. 

Selecting  a  Saturday  which  happened  to  be  a  holi- 
day, he  commenced  operations  Friday  night,  and 
there  was  every  prospect  of  being  inside  the  vault 
long  before  Monday  morning.  But,  unfortunately, 
a  wide-awake  policeman  of  inquiring  mind  heard  the 
unfamiliar  buzzing  out  in  the  street.  He  prowled 
around  and  finally  discovered  that  something  un- 
usual was  going  on  in  the  cellar  under  the  saloon. 
No  answer  coming  to  his  knocks,  he  burst  in  the 
door  and  descended  to  the  cellar.  The  thieves  ran 
out,  but  two  were  caught  in  the  street.  Though 
Grady  financed  and  planned  this  scheme,  he  escaped 
untouched,  for  there  was  no  evidence  against  him. 

Criminals,  successful  and  unsuccessful,  rarely 
lack  women  to  love  them.  Strangely  enough,  this 
grim,  daring,  successful  general  of  crime  was  per- 
petually spurned  and  flouted  by  my  sex.  Finally 
there  came  to  him  like  an  angel  from  heaven  a  very 
beautiful,  well-bred  daughter  of  the  rich.  Of  course, 
John  fell  in  love  with  her — any  man  would  have — 
and  things  looked  favorable  for  him. 


204  SOPHIE  LYONS 

This  woman  was  the  young  and  almost  penniless 
widow  of  a  member  of  the  "four  hundred."  She 
had  involved  herself  in  a  financial  situation  from 
which  there  was  no  honest  escape.  Just  as  servants 
of  the  rich  ran  to  ' '  Mother ' '  Mandelbaum  with  their 
secrets,  so  this  woman  went  to  Grady  with  her  in- 
side knowledge. 

A  sort  of  partnership  sprang  up  between  them 
which  was  profitable  to  both,  but  particularly  to 
the  woman,  who  used  her  sex  unhesitatingly  to  get 
the  better  of  her  bargains  with  the  cunning  old  mas- 
ter of  the  underworld.  Grady's  passion  grew 
stronger  and  stronger,  and  the  young  widow,  who 
really  despised  him,  found  it  harder  and  harder  to 
keep  him  at  a  distance. 

Finally  things  came  to  a  head.  Grady  knew  that 
the  secret  of  the  Manhattan  Bank  was  soon  to  come 
out  and  that  his  position  in  New  York  would  be  no 
longer  safe.  He  was  ready  to  flee,  but  his  passion 
for  the  woman  had  become  so  completely  his  master 
that  he  would  not  mova  without  her.  It  was  a  pe- 
culiar duel  of  wits  that  followed.  The  woman  was 
financially  dependent  on  Grady  and  dared  not  hide 
from  him  nor  pretend  that  she  did  not  return  his 
passion. 

The  night  came  when  she  must  either  elope  with 
him  or  lose  his  aid.  The  thought  of  either  was 
unbearable,  yet  she  met  him  in  his  empty  house  at 
midnight  prepared.  She  knew  that  Grady  would 
have  his  entire  fortune  with  him  in  the  form  of 
the  diamonds  and  her  plan  was  nothing  less  than  to 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  205 

murder  him  and  take  his  jewels.  She  had  brought 
a  little  vial  of  poison  with  her  and  held  it  in 
trembling  fingers  within  her  muff.  She  knew  Grady 
had  a  bottle  of  yellow  wine,  and  she  knew  it  would 
not  be  hard  to  have  him  drink  a  toast  to  their  elope- 
ment. 

Grady  produced  the  bottle  but  also  only  one  dirty  I 
tumbler.  They  were  both  to  drink  from  that,  it 
seemed.  The  woman,  at  her  wits'  ends,  glanced 
about  the  room  and  spied  a  battered  tin  cup. 

"There,"  she  cried,  pointing,  "the  very  thing." 


GRADY 's  ROMANTIC  DEATH 


While  Grady  went  to  get  it  she  emptied  the  vial 
into  the  dirty  glass.  Grady  soon  poured  a  quantity 
of  the  yellow  wine  on  top  of  it,  and  then  filled  the 
cup.  But  to  her  horror,  he  handed  her  the  glass 
and  took  the  cup. 

"No,  no,  John,"  she  gasped,  "you  take  the  glass. 
I'll  drink  from  the  cup." 

"Why,"  asked  Grady,  his  eyes  aflame  with  sud- 
den suspicion,  "what's  the  matter?" 

"Oh,  only  that  I  left  a  kiss  for  you  on  the  glass," 
she  faltered. 

Grady  took  the  glass  and  slowly,  very  slowly,  he 
raised  it  toward  his  lips,  all  the  while  gazing  un- 
winkingly  at  the  woman.  Just  at  his  lips  the  glass 
stopped  and  the  woman  could  not  avoid  a  shudder, 
she  covered  her  eyes  and  Grady,  used  to  reading 


206  SOPHIE  LYONS 

people's  minds,  read  hers.     He  let  the  glass  fall 
and  shouted: 

"So,  it's  murder  you  want — well,  murder  it  shall 
be,  but  I'll  do  the  murdering." 

She  saw  death  in  his  eyes  as  he  seized  her  arm, 
but  before  death  he  would  first  have  his  way  with 
her.  She  screamed  and,  pulling  with  the  strength 
of  despair,  twisted  the  arm  out  of  Grady's  grasp, 
leaving  half  her  sleeve  in  his  hand. 

Still,  there  could  surely  be  no  hope  for  her,  and 
yet  at  that  very  instant  when  he  poised  himself  to 
plunge  after  her  again,  his  eyes  turned  glassy; 
paralysis  seized  him,  and  he  sank  slowly  into  his 
chair  while  the  fainting  woman  tottered  out  of  the 
door. 

The  next  day,  it  so  happened,  Shevelin,  the  watch- 
man, confessed  to  his  connection  with  the  Manhattan 
Bank  robbery.  The  police  were  just  taking  up  the 
trail  that  led  to  Grady's  connection  with  the  affair 
when  the  news  came  to  headquarters  that  Grady 
was  dead. 

He  was  found  with  the  sleeve  of  a  woman's  dress 
grasped  convulsively  in  his  hand.  On  the  table  were 
a  bottle  of  wine  and  a  cup.  A  broken  glass  and 
spilled  wine  on  the  floor  showed  traces  of  poison. 


CBEED    OF    THE    " FENCES' ' 


An  autopsy  performed  on  Grady's  body  showed 
no  sign  of  poison.  His  death  had  been  caused  by 
apoplexy.     The  woman  who  meant  to  kill  him  by 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  207 

poison  had  actually  done  so  by  means  of  the  furious 
emotions  she  had  aroused.  She  could  have  taken 
the  diamonds  had  she  only  dared  to  wait. 

Thus  died  Grady,  still  free  from  the  law,  and 
with  his  great  fortune  in  diamonds  in  his  pockets. 
Yet  he  died  in  an  agony  of  furious  disappointment 
as  miserably  as  it  is  the  lot  of  man  to  die.  For 
him,  as  for  ' l  Mother '  '  Mandelbaum,  it  was  destined 
that  the  lesson  should  be  finally  but  tragically  im- 
pressed— that  crime  does  not  pay ! 

As  a  general  thing  the  receiver  of  stolen  goods 
is  the  greediest,  tightest-fisted  individual  who  ever 
squeezed  a  dollar.  The  bargains  he  drives  are  so 
one-sided  that  unless  the  thief  is  unusually  shrewd 
he  will  find  his  profits  dwindling  to  almost  nothing 
by  the  time  he  has  disposed  of  his  plunder.  The 
margin  between  what  the  thief  gets  for  his  stealings 
and  the  price  they  finally  bring  is  enormous,  and 
even  with  only  a  few  thieves  working  regularly  for 
him  the  "fence"  finds  it  easy  to  get  rich  in  a  very 
short  time. 

The  greed  of  the  "fences"  is  one  important  rea- 
son why  many  criminals  find  it  difficult  to  reform. 
The  more  thieves  a  "fence"  has  working  for  him 
the  greater  his  profits,  and  naturally  the  longer 
they  remain  in  the  business  the  more  valuable  they 
are.  When  a  thief  reforms,  the  "fence"  is  put  to 
the  trouble  and  expense  of  training  a  new  man — 
and  there  is  always  the  danger  that  the  new  mem- 
ber of  the  staff  will  prove  less  capable  or  industrious 
than  the  one  whose  place  he  takes. 


208  SOPHIE  LYONS 

The  "fence,"  therefore,  tries  to  make  crime  so 
attractive  or  so  necessary  to  the  clever  thief  that 
he  will  continue  stealing  until  death  or  arrest  over- 
takes him.  He  keeps  close  watch  for  signs  of  a  de- 
sire to  reform,  and  does  all  he  can  to  discourage  it 

The  "fence"  studies  the  special  weaknesses  of 
his  thieves  and  understands  just  how  to  play  on 
them  to  his  advantage.  If  a  thief  suggests  "turn- 
ing over  a  new  leaf,"  the  "fence"  pays  him  more 
liberally  for  his  next  lot  of  goods,  or  loans  him 
money  to  satisfy  his  craving  for  liquor,  drugs,  fine 
clothes,  or  whatever  may  be  his  failing. 

This  last  is  a  favorite  method  of  getting  a  thief 
into  a  "fence's"  power.  The  "fence"  advances 
money  freely,  with  the  "  always-glad- to-help-an-old- 
friend"  spirit.  But  he  keeps  careful  count  of  every 
dollar  loaned,  and  when  the  inevitable  day  of  reck- 
oning comes  the  debt  is  usually  so  large  that  the 
thief  can  never  hope  to  pay  it  except  by  crime. 


SHINBURN    AND    THE    "  FENCE " 


After  living  an  honest  life  for  fifteen  years,  Mark 
Shinburn  might  never  have  turned  burglar  again 
had  he  not  fallen  into  the  hands  of  one  of  these 
avaricious  receivers  of  stolen  goods, 

Shinburn — as  I  will  tell  you  in  a  later  chapter- 
had  accumulated  from  his  early  robberies  a  million 
dollars.     With  this  fortune  he  went  to  Belgium, 
bought  an  estate  and  the  title  of  count,  and  settled 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BUEGLAKS  209 

down  to  the  life  of  a  prosperous  country  gentle- 
man. 

But  the  evil  fortune  which  seems  to  follow  every 
thief  never  forsook  Shinburn.  His  mania  for 
gambling  and  an  unlucky  series  of  speculations  in 
the  stock  market  at  last  left  him  penniless. 

In  the  hope  of  restoring  his  fallen  fortunes,  Shin- 
burn  went  to  London.  There  he  met  an  old  ac- 
quaintance of  his — a  wealthy  receiver  of  stolen 
goods.  This  wily  trickster,  eager  to  get  Shinburn, 
the  greatest  of  burglars,  to  stealing  for  him  again, 
received  him  with  open  arms. 

"Glad  to  accommodate  you,  Mark,"  said  the 
"fence"  when  a  loan  was  suggested.  "Your  word 
is  good  for  whatever  you  need — and  pay  it  back 
whenever  you  are  able." 

The  money  Shinburn  received  in  this  way  went 
where  much  of  his  original  fortune  had  gone — at 
Monte  Carlo.  He  returned  to  the  London  "fence" 
for  another  loan,  and  another — and  all  were  willing- 
ly granted.  But  when  he  sought  money  the  fourth 
time  he  found  the  "fence's"  attitude  strangely 
changed. 

HE  TURNS  BURGLAR  AGAIN 

"Really,"  said  the  "fence,"  "I  don't  see  how  I 
can  let  you  have  any  more  money.  It  seems  peculiar 
that  you  should  be  in  such  straitened  circumstances. 
In  the  old  days  you  used  to  have  all  the  money 
you  needed — why  don't  you  use  your  wits  and  get 
»ome  now!" 


210  SOPHIE  LYONS 

After  touching  Shinburn's  pride  in  this  crafty- 
way,  the  ' 'fence' '  casually  mentioned  an  excellent 
opportunity  which  had  come  to  his  ears  for  robbing 
a  bank  in  Belgium.  It  was,  he  said,  a  rather  delicate 
undertaking,  but  there  was  a  great  deal  of  money 
involved — and  Shinburn  was  the  one  man  in  the 
world  who  could  carry  it  through. 

Shinburn  's  shame  at  being  obliged  to  borrow 
money  made  him  an  easy  victim  of  the  "fence's" 
wiles.  He  went  to  Belgium,  was  caught  in  the  act 
of  entering  the  bank,  and  was  sent  to  prison  for  a 
long  term.  As  soon  as  he  was  released  the  London 
"fence"  began  pressing  him  for  money,  and  Shin- 
burn became  a  confirmed  criminal  again,  primarily 
to  pay  this  debt. 

And  this  same  "fence,"  Einstein  by  name,  paid 
the  penalty  of  his  wretched  practices  with  a  bullet 
in  his  brain,  which  was  sent  there  by  a  desperate 
burglar  who  had  tried  vainly  to  reform  but  was 
held  in  criminal  bondage  by  Einstein. 

The  promoter  of  crime  is  not  always  a  receiver 
of  stolen  goods.  Sometimes  he  is  himself  a  thief, 
who  has  mastered  some  branch  of  the  business  so 
thoroughly  that  he  is  able  to  sit  back  and  let  others 
do  the  active  work. 

Such  a  man  was  "Dutch  Dan"  Watson,  who  was 
long  considered  one  of  the  most  expert  makers  of 
duplicate  keys  in  America.  His  specialty  was  en- 
tering buildings  and  taking  wax  impressions  of  the 
key«^  which  he  often  found  hanging  up  in  surpris- 
xiigly  convenient  places. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  211 

From  these  impressions  Watson,  in  his  own  work- 
shop, would  make  the  duplicate  keys  and  file  them 
away  for  future  use.  To  each  key  he  would  attach 
a  tag  bearing  the  address  of  the  building  and  a  little 
diagram  showing  the  exact  location  of  the  door 
which  the  key  unlocked. 

" Dutch  Dan's"  active  part  in  the  proposed  crime 
ended  as  soon  as  the  keys  were  made.  Then,  from 
the  wide  circle  of  criminals  that  he  knew,  he  would 
select  a  number  of  expert  burglars  and  hand  them 
a  set  of  the  keys  and  diagrams,  showing  just  how 
the  robbery  was  to  be  carried  out. 

If  the  burglars  were  successful  they  turned  over 
to  " Dutch  Dan"  20  per  cent,  of  the  proceeds.  This 
mode  of  operation  proved  very  profitable  for  Wat- 
son, and  I  remember  that  he  often  had  as  many  as 
eight  different  parties  of  burglars  working  for  him 
at  one  time. 

And  Watson,  like  Einstein,  was  sent  to  his  grave 
by  a  fellow  criminal,  who  had  been  discarded  from 
his  gang  and  killed  him  in  revenge. 

Will  any  reader  who  has  reviewed  with  me  the 
lives  of  the  famous  criminals  recounted  above  dis- 
pute my  assertion  that,  truly,  ckime  does  not  pay? 


212  SOPHIE  LYONS 


CHAPTER  IX 

SURPRISING  METHODS  OF  THE  THIEVES  WHO  WORK  ONLY 

DURING  BUSINESS    HOURS   AND    WALK    AWAY 

WITH  THOUSANDS  OP  DOLLARS  UNDER 

THE  VERY  EYES  OF  THE  BANK 

OFFICIALS 

One  day  before  I  was  as  well  known  to  the  police 
as  I  later  became  I  was  walking  down  Broadway  in 
New  York  when  I  met  a  prominent  citizen  of  the 
underworld  with  whom  I  had  been  associated  in 
numerous  burglaries.  So  far  as  I  knew  at  that 
time  he  was  still  a  burglar.  After  we  had  stood 
chatting  for  several  minutes  I  was  surprised  to  have 
him  press  a  hundred-dollar  bill  into  my  hand  and 
say: 

■ 1  Just  as  the  clocks  strike  noon  to-day  I  want  you 
to  go  into  the  Manhattan  Bank  and  have  this  bill 
changed.  Walk  right  up  to  the  paying  teller's  win- 
dow and  ask  for  some  silver  and  small  bills.  When 
he  hands  you  the  money  take  your  time  about  count- 
ing it,  and  keep  his  attention  engaged  just  as  long 
as  you  can." 

"But  what  do  I  get  for  running  errands  for  you?" 
I  jokingly  inquired. 

He  refused  to  explain  any  further,  and,  as  I  was 
just  dying  with  curiosity  to  find  out  what  sort  of 
game  he  was  up  to,  I  agreed  to  do  as  I  was  told. 
Of  course,  I  knew  it  was  some  crime  he  was  inveig- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  213 

ling  me  into,  but  just  what  it  was,  or  what  part  I 
was  playing  in  it,  I  had  no  more  idea  than  a  babe 
unborn  when  I  strolled  into  the  bank  promptly  on 
the  stroke  of  twelve. 

The  paying  teller  proved  to  be  a  very  susceptible 
man,  and  I  found  no  difficulty  in  getting  him  into 
conversation.  As  there  were  few  people  in  the  bank 
at  that  hour,  he  was  glad  enough  to  relieve  the  mo- 
notony of  his  day's  work  by  a  little  chat  with  a 
pretty  young  woman. 

Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  we  talked  busily 
for  fully  fifteen  minutes,  and  during  all  that  time  I 
succeeded  in  keeping  his  eyes  riveted  on  me.  When, 
at  last,  a  man  approached  the  window  to  transact 
some  business  I  put  my  money  away  in  my  satchel, 
gave  the  courteous  teller  a  parting  smile,  and 
strolled  leisurely  out  of  the  bank.  While  I  was  in 
the  bank  I  had  seen  nothing  of  the  man  who  had 
sent  me  on  this  mysterious  errand,  and  I  did  not 
see  him  until  I  called  at  his  hotel  that  evening. 

"We've  done  a  good  day's  work,  Sophie,  and 
here  is  your  share  of  the  profits,"  he  said,  handing 
me  a  fatter  roll  of  crisp  bank  notes  than  I  had  laid 
my  hands  on  for  several  weeks.  As  I  hurriedly 
counted  the  bills  over  I  was  amazed  to  find  that  the 
roll  contained  $2,000. 

"While  you  were  flirting  so  deliciously  with  the 
paying  teller,"  my  friend  explained,  "I  slipped  into 
the  bank  by  a  side  entrance,  reached  my  hand 
through  a  gate  in  the  wire  cage  and  grabbed  a  bun- 
dle of  bills,  which  I  later  found  to  contain  $4,000.' ' 


214  SOPHIE  LYONS 

That  was  my  introduction  to  the  work  of  the 
"bank  sneak" — a  thief  whose  methods  were  then 
in  their  infancy,  but  who  developed  ingenuity  and 
boldness  so  rapidly  that  he  soon  became  the  terror 
of  the  banks  and  every  business  man  who  ever  has 
to  handle  large  sums  of  money  or  securities. 

What  I  have  to  tell  you  to-day  about  "bank 
sneaks ' '  and  their  methods  will  furnish  as  good  an 
example  as  anything  I  know  of  the  fact  that  CRIME 
DOES  NOT  PAY. 

The  stealings  of  a  clever  " sneak7 '  often  run  as 
high  as  $100,000  in  a  single  year.  But  what  benefit 
does  he  get  out  of  this  easily  acquired  wealth!  It 
invariably  goes  as  easily  as  it  comes,  and,  after  a 
few  months,  he  is  as  badly  in  need  of  money  as  he 
was  before.  I  can  count  on  the  fingers  of  one  hand 
the  " sneaks' '  who  are  getting  any  real  happiness 
out  of  life — and  they  are  all  men  and  women  who, 
like  myself,  have  seen  the  error  of  their  ways  and 
reformed. 

If  crime  could  ever  prove  profitable  to  any  man, 
it  would  have  proved  so  to  Walter  Sheridan,  long 
the  foremost  "bank  sneak' '  in  America.  So  varied 
and  far  reaching  were  his  adroit  schemes  that  with- 
in twenty  years  the  gangs  which  he  organized  and 
led  stole  more  than  a  million  dollars.  He  was  a 
past  master  in  the  art  of  escaping  punishment  foe 
his  crimes,  and  he  was  also  a  shrewd,  close-fisted 
financier,  who  claimed  the  lion's  share  of  all  the 
booty  and  carefully  hoarded  his  savings. 

Yet  what  did  all  his  cleverness  avail  this  prince 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  215 

of  '  '  sneaks ' y  ?  His  fortune  was  swept  away,  and  be 
finally  died  a  pauper  in  the  prison  cell  to  which  he 
was  sent  when  he  was  picked  up  starving  in  the 
streets  of  Montreal. 

Sheridan  introduced  many  ingenious  new  methods 
in  "bank  sneaking/ '  just  as  Mark  Shinburn  did  in 
burglary.  He  was  the  first  to  conceal  a  pair  of 
tweezers  in  the  end  of  his  cane  and  use  them  to 
pick  up  bundles  of  money  which  were  beyond  the 
reach  of  his  arms. 

This  cane  was  a  really  wonderful  device.  To  all 
appearances  it  was  only  a  fine,  straight  piece  of 
bamboo,  nicely  polished  and  fitted  with  an  ivory 
handle — the  sort  of  walking  stick  any  prosperous 
man  might  carry. 

Only  when  you  unscrewed  its  heavy  brass  ferrule 
was  the  dishonest  purpose  for  which  it  was  intended 
revealed.  The  bamboo  stick  was  hollow,  and  in  it 
were  two  narrow  strips  of  steel  which  dropped  down 
below  the  end  of  the  cane  and  could  be  operated  like 
tweezers  when  you  released  the  spring,  which  was 
concealed  under  a  heavy  band  of  solid  silver  just 
below  the  handle. 

When  Sheridan  was  his  natural  self  he  was  a 
stout,  good  looking  man  of  dignified  presence  and 
refined  manners  who  would  readily  pass  for  a  well- 
to-do  merchant  or  manufacturer.  But  when  occa- 
sion required  he  could  change  his  appearance  so 
that  even  his  closest  friends  wouldn't  recognize 
him. 

Once  when  he  was  arrested  in  New  York  he  ef- 


216  SOPHIE  LYONS 

fected  in  his  cell  in  the  Tombs  a  transformation 
which  mystified  the  authorities  and  nearly  resulted 
in  his  release  on  the  ground  of  mistaken  identity. 

He  exchanged  his  expensively  tailored  suit  and 
fine  linen  for  the  dirty  rags  of  a  tramp  who  was 
locked  up  in  the  adjoining  cell.  With  a  broken 
knife  blade  he  hacked  off  every  bit  of  his  long  flow- 
ing beard.  He  dyed  his  reddish  brown  hair  with 
coffee  grounds  and  clipped  and  twisted  it  to  make 
it  look  a  life-long  stranger  to  comb  and  brush.  By 
eating  soap  he  managed  to  reduce  his  portly  figure 
to  a  thin,  sickly  shadow  of  skin  and  bones. 

"When  the  prison  keepers  came  to  take  him  into 
court  for  trial  they  were  amazed  to  find  in  place 
of  the  well-dressed,  well-fed  broker  they  had  locked 
up  a  few  days  before  a  repulsively  dirty,  ragged, 
emaciated  tramp,  whose  actions  indicated  that  he 
was  not  more  than  half  witted. 

This  ruse  of  Sheridan's  failed,  however,  through 
the  persistence  of  William  A.  Pinkerton,  head  of 
the  Pinkerton  Detective  Agency.  Mr.  Pinkerton, 
who  had  been  on  Sheridan's  trail  for  years,  identi- 
fied him  positively  in  spite  of  his  changed  appear- 
ance, and  succeeded  in  having  him  convicted  and 
sentenced  to  five  years  in  Sing  Sing  prison. 

It  was  from  this  wizard  of  crime,  Walter  Sheri- 
dan, that  I  learned  the  value  of  the  clever  disguises 
which  so  often  stood  me  in  good  stead  and  which 
enabled  my  comrades  and  me  to  get  our  hands  on 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars  that  didn't  belong 
to  us. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  217 

Early  in  my  career  I  conceived  the  idea  of  fur- 
thering my  dishonest  plans  by  posing  as  a  wealthy 
old  widow,  bo  crippled  that  she  had  to  transact 
whatever  business  she  had  with  the  bank  from  her 
seat  in  her  carriage.  This  plan  succeeded  beyond 
.my  fondest  expectations,  and  I  am  ashamed  to  think 
how  many  thousands  of  dollars  I  stole  through  this 
simple  but  extremely  effective  little  expedient 

This  ruse  proved  its  merits  the  first  time  we  tried 
it — in  the  daylight  robbery  of  a  Brooklyn,  New 
York,  bank,  where  one  of  my  two  companions  walked 
away  with  $40,000  while  I  sat  outside  in  my  carriage 
listening  to  the  old  cashier's  advice  about  investing 
the  money  my  lamented  husband  had  left  me. 

But  let  me  go  back  to  the  very  beginning  and 
show  you  just  how  this  bold  robbery  was  planned 
and  carried  out 

We  had  had  our  eyes  on  this  bank  for  a  week — 
Johnny  Meaney,  Tom  Bigelow,  and  I.  Between  the 
hours  of  12  and  1  each  day  we  found  there  were  few 
customers  in  the  bank  and  the  institution  was  left  in 
charge  of  the  old  cashier  and  a  young  bookkeeper. 

But  the  cashier,  although  over  sixty  years  old, 
was  a  keen-eyed,  nervous  man,  whose  suspicions 
were  apt  to  be  easily  aroused.  And,  besides,  the 
window  in  the  wire  cage  where  he  did  business  with 
the  bank's  customers  was  so  situated  that  he  could 
always  see  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye  the  vault 
and  the  long  counter  where  the  money  was  piled. 

We  all  agreed  that  it  was  not  safe  to  attempt  the 
robbery  while  the  cashier  was  in  his  usual  place. 


218 


SOPHIE  LYONS 


If  I  could  only  devise  some  way  of  getting  him  out- 
side the  bank  for  a  few  minutes  it  would  be  easy  for 
one  of  the  men  to  hold  the  young  bookkeeper  in  con- 
versation at  the  paying  teller's  window,  which  was 
so  placed  that  while  he  stood  there  his  back  was 


POSING  AS  A  WEALTHY  CRIPPLED  OLD  WIDOW 


toward  the  vault.    That  would  give  just  the  oppor- 
tunity we  needed  for  the  third  member  of  the  party 
to  step  unnoticed  through  a  convenient  side  door, 
and  get  the  plunder. 

But  how  to  lure  the  cashier  out  of  the  bank 7 
That  was  the  question,  and  it  was  while  I  was 
racking  my  brains  for  some  solution  of  the  difficulty 
that  I  blundered  upon  the  idea  of  posing  as  a 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  219 

wealthy  widow  who  was  too  lame  to  leave  her  car- 
riage when  she  called  at  the  bank. 

During  my  stay  in  this  city  I  had  heard  of  the 
death  in  Europe  of  a  rich  and  prominent  Brooklyn 
man.  He  had  been  living  abroad  for  the  last  ten 
years  and  had  married  there  an  English  woman 
'who  had  never  visited  Brooklyn  and  was  entirely 
unknown  there  except  by  name. 

Nothing  could  have  suited  my  purpose  better.  I 
would  pose  as  this  wealthy  Brooklyn  man's  widow, 
and  in  this  guise  would  induce  the  bank  cashier  to 
come  out  to  my  carriage  and  talk  with  me. 

You  may  be  sure  that  I  laid  my  plans  with  the 
greatest  care,  for  I  knew  what  a  bold  undertaking 
this  was  and  that  the  least  oversight  on  my  part 
would  spoil  everything. 

First  I  bought  a  silver  gray  wig  to  cover  my  chest- 
nut hair.  It  was  a  beautiful  specimen  of  the  wig- 
maker's  art  and  cost  me  sixty-five  dollars. 

Then  I  made  up  my  plump,  rosy  cheeks  to  look  as 
pale  and  wrinkled  as  an  invalid  woman's  should 
at  the  age  of  seventy  and  dressed  myself  in  the 
gloomiest,  most  expensive  widow's  weeds  I  could 
find. 

A  pair  of  hideous  blue  goggles  and  two  crutches 
t  completed  my  disguise.  The  glasses  were  to  hide 
my  bright  eyes,  whose  habit  of  roaming  incessantly 
from  side  to  side  I  had  an  idea  often  made  people 
suspicious  of  me;  and  the  crutches  were  to  bear 
ont  my  story  of  the  paralyzed  limbs  which  made 


220  SOPHIE  LYONS 

"my  leaving  my  carriage  except  when  absolutely 
necessary  out  of  the  question. 

My  costume  was  not  the  only  detail  which  had 
to  be  arranged  to  make  my  plan  complete.    I  must 
have    some    visiting    cards — cards    with    a    heavy 
mourning  border  and  the  name  of  the  Brooklyn, 
man's  widow  engraved  on  them.  I 

I  also  didn't  forget  to  place  with  these  cards  in 
my  handbag  some  worthless  mining  stock  which  had 
been  my  share  of  a  western  bank  robbery,  and  which 
even  Ellen  Peck's  shrewd  magic  couldn't  turn  into 
cash.  This  would  be  useful,  I  thought,  in  holding 
the  old  cashier's  attention. 

Then  there  were  my  horses  and  a  carriage  befit- 
ting my  wealth  which  the  men  hired  from  a  livery 
stable.  I  called  on  two  young  thieves  whom  I  knew 
over  in  New  York,  and,  by  promising  them  a  small 
percentage  of  whatever  we  succeeded  in  stealing, 
induced  them  to  dress  up  in  some  borrowed  livery 
and  act  as  my  driver  and  footman. 

At  last  everything  was  arranged  and  the  day  was 
set  for  the  robbery.  The  morning  dawned  warm  and 
bright — just  the  sort  of  weather  which  would  make 
an  invalid  widow  feel  like  venturing  out  to  transact 
a  little  business. 

I  had  not  seen  Bigelow  and  Meaney  since  the  night 
before.  They  had  called  then  at  my  rooms  to  go 
over  our  plans  for  the  last  time.  Bigelow  was  to 
engage  the  attention  of  the  bookkeeper,  who  would 
be  left  alone  in  the  bank  after  the  cashier's  de- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  221 

parture,  while  wiry  little  Johnny  Meaney  made  his 
way  through  the  side  door  and  got  the  money. 

At  a  few  minutes  past  twelve  my  carriage  drew 
up  in  front  of  the  bank.  Two  or  three  of  the  of- 
ficials were  just  going  to  lunch.  If  nothing  un- 
expected had  happened  to  change  the  bank's  routine/ 
the  eashier  and  one  bookkeeper  were  alone  in  the 
counting-room  and  the  coast  was  clear. 

Through  my  blue  glasses  I  could  see  Tom  Bige- 
low's  big  form  swinging  down  the  street  as  uncon- 
cernedly as  if  he  had  not  a  care  in  the  world.  And 
from  the  opposite  direction,  although  I  could  not  see 
him,  I  felt  positive  that  Meaney  was  on  his  way  to 
carry  out  his  part  in  our  crime. 

The  footman  jumped  down  and  stood  at  attention 
while  I  fumbled  in  my  bag  for  one  of  my  black 
bordered  cards.  With  hands  which  trembled  natur- 
ally enough  to  give  the  last  touch  of  reality  to  my 
feeble  appearance  I  handed  him  the  card  and  tremu- 
lously whispered  my  instructions.  He  bowed  re- 
spectfully and  disappeared  inside  the  bank. 

Would  the  cashier  be  good  enough  to  step  outside 
and  discuss  a  little  matter  of  business  with  a  lady 
who  was  unable  to  leave  her  carriage? 

The  cashier  is  very  sorry,  but  he  is  extremely 
busy  and,  as  he  is  practically  alone  in  the  bank  just 
now,  it  will  be  impossible  for  him  to  leave  his  desk. 
Can't  the  lady  arrange  to  step  inside  for  a  minute? 

Before  the  nervous  footman  has  time  to  explain 
that  the  lady  is  a  cripple  and  cannot  leave  her  car- 
riage the  cashier  has  taken  another  look  at  the  card, 


222  SOPHIE  LYONS 

has  recognized  the  name,  and  realizes  that  it  is  the 
widow  of  a  millionaire  who  is  waiting  outside  for  an 
audience  with  him. 

"Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  says  nervously;! 
"the  light  is  so  poor  here  that  I  could  hardly  see' 
that  name.    Tell  the  lady  that  I  will  be  out  directly. ' ' 

As  the  footman  walks  out  to  report  to  his  mistress 
that  her  wishes  are  going  to  be  fulfilled  the  cashier 
hurriedly  changes  the  linen  jacket  he  wears  at  his 
desk  for  a  solemn  frock  coat,  gives  his  scanty  hair 
a  quick  part  and  calls  to  the  bookkeeper  to  look  out 
for  things  while  he  is  gone. 

All  this  time  I  am  sitting  primly  there  in  the 
carriage  trying  as  hard  as  I  know  how  to  live  up  to 
the  dignity  of  a  millionaire's  widow  and  to  conceal 
my  fears  that  something  is  going  to  happen  to  dis- 
arrange our  carefully  laid  plans. 

But,  the  next  instant,  I  am  relieved  to  see  the 
cashier  coming  toward  me  all  bows  and  smiles.  And, 
as  he  comes  out  of  the  bank  he  almost  brushes  el- 
bows with  Tom  Bigelow,  who,  with  a  punctuality 
worthy  of  a  better  cause,  is  going  into  the  bank  at 
that  very  moment. 

Yes,  indeed,  the  cashier  remembers  my  husband 
and  he  is  proud  of  the  opportunity  to  be  of  some 
service  to  his  widow.  I  can  see  the  avarice  shining 
in  his  eyes  as  he  thinks  of  the  profits  his  bank  will 
make  if  he  can  get  the  handling  of  my  property. 

Our  interview  is,  of  course,  a  tedious  affair  fox* 
I  am  very  feeble  and  have  all  sorts  of  difficulty  in 
finding  the  mining  stock  about  which  I  want  to  con- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  223 

suit  him.  But  the  cashier  shows  not  the  slightest 
impatience  and  humors  my  whims  with  all  the  con- 
sideration my  wealth  and  position  deserve. 

And,  when  he  sees  what  a  worthless  lot  of  stock 
I  have  invested  in,  his  interest  in  me  becomes  all 
the  greater. 

Out  of  the  corner  of  my  eye  I  can  just  see  Tom 
Bigelow  as  he  stands  talking  with  the  bookkeeper 
inside  the  bank.  And,  by  this  time,  if  no  unforeseen 
difficulty  has  arisen,  I  know  that  Johnny  Meaney 
is  in  the  vault  making  a  quick  but  judicious  selection 
of  the  cash  and  securities  which  we  can  most  easily 
dispose  of. 

After  what  seemed  an  eternity,  but  was  in  reality 
only  four  or  five  minutes,  I  saw  Bigelow  come  out 
of  the  bank  and  stroll  leisurely  up  the  street.  This 
was  the  signal  that  the  money  had  been  secured  and 
that  Meaney  was  making  his  escape  in  the  opposite 
direction. 

Now  everything  depended  on  my  holding  the  cash- 
ier just  as  much  longer  as  I  could.  Every  minute 
he  remained  there  talking  with  me  meant  that  much 
delay  in  the  discovery  of  the  bank's  loss  and  the 
starting  of  the  police  on  our  trail. 

Another  five  minutes  dragged  along  before  I  had 
exhausted  the  supply  of  questions  which  I  wanted 
answered.  Then  I  said  good-bye,  promising  to  re- 
turn on  the  next  day,  and  told  my  coachman  to  drive 
on.  The  cashier  whom  I  had  duped  so  successfully 
stood  there  on  the  sidewalk  bowing  and  smiling  as 
my  carriage  rolled  down  the  street. 


224  SOPHIE  LYONS 

I  went  to  the  house  of  a  friend,  where  I  exchanged 
my  disguise  for  my  ordinary  clothes.  Then  I 
boarded  a  train  for  Montreal  and  there  a  few  days 
later  Bigelow  and  Meaney  divided  with  me  booty 
amounting  to  $40,000. 

It  was  nothing  unusual  for  the  clever  bands  of 
"bank  sneaks"  with  which  I  "worked"  to  steal  as 
much  or  more  than  that  in  as  short  order.  But, 
as  I  have  told  you,  a  relentless  curse  followed  our 
dishonestly  acquired  wealth  and,  sooner  or  later, 
taught  those  who  would  learn  the  lesson  that  honesty 
m  the  only  polioy  and  that  crime  does  not  pay. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAES     225 


CHAPTER  X 

STARTLING  SURPRISES  THAT  CONFRONT  CRIMINALS — HOW 
UNEXPECTED   HAPPENINGS   SUDDENLY   DEVELOP 
AND    UPSET    CAREFULLY    LAID    PLANS   AND 
CAUSE  THE  BURGLARS  ARREST  OR  PRE- 
VENT HIS  GETTING  EXPECTED 
PLUNDER 

Only  one  who  has  been,  as  I  have,  for  years  be- 
hind the  scenes  at  all  sorts  of  crimes  can  appreciate 
how  often  every  criminal  is  brought  face  to  face 
with  the  most  startling  surprises. 

No  matter  how  clever  a  robber  is  he  can  never 
tell  when  arrest,  serious  injury,  or  death  will  bring 
his  dishonest  career  to  a  sudden  end.  And,  even  if 
he  escapes  these  fatal  disasters,  there  are  always 
a  thousand  and  one  chances  which  may  develop  at 
any  moment  to  spoil  his  carefully  laid  plans  and  pre- 
vent his  getting  his  plunder.  Most  of  these  are 
things  which  it  is  absolutely  impossible  to  foresee 
and  guard  against.  This  is  why  only  a  small  per- 
centage of  the  crimes  which  are  attempted  ever  suc- 
ceed and  why  their  success  hangs  trembling  in  the 
balance  until  the  very  last  minute. 

The  brains  we  criminals  expended  in  saving  some 
robbery  from  failure  or  in  escaping  the  consequences 
of  our  deeds  would  have  won  us  lasting  success  and 
happiness  in  any  honorable  pursuit — used,  as  they 
were,  for  crime,  they  brought  us  in  the  end  only  daa- 


226  SOPHIE  LYONS 

grace  and  remorse.  That  is  the  lesson  which  these 
experiences  have  taught  me  and  which  I  hope  every 
reader  of  this  page  will  learn. 

If  there  was  ever  a  thief  who  planned  his  crimes 
with  greater  attention  to  the  smallest  details  than 
Harry  Eaymond,  the  man  who  stole  the  famous 
Gainsborough,  I  never  knew  him. 

But  even  Raymond's  painstaking  care  was  not 
proof  against  all  the  startling  surprises  which  con- 
fronted him  and  his  plans  were  often  completely 
ruined  by  one  of  these  unexpected  happenings. 

Raymond  was  always  a  restless  man — never  con- 
tent to  remain  long  in  one  place.  When  stories  of 
the  rich  gold  and  diamond  mines  in  South  Africa 
reached  his  ears  he  began  to  cast  longing  eyes  in 
that  direction.  Where  there  was  so  much  treasure 
he  thought  there  surely  ought  to  be  an  opportunity 
to  get  his  hands  on  a  share  of  it. 

He  tried  to  induce  Mark  Shinburn  to  go  with  him, 
but  Shinburn  had  his  eye  on  several  big  robberies 
nearer  home,  and  so  Raymond  set  out  alone.  On 
the  way  he  met  Charley  King,  a  noted  English  thief, 
and  the  two  joined  forces. 

Raymond  hadn't  been  in  South  Africa  twenty- 
four  hours  before  he  learned  that  a  steamer  left 
Cape  Town  foi*  England  every  week  with  a  heavy 
shipment  of  gold  and  diamonds  on  board.  His  next 
step  was  to  find  out  just  how  this  treasure  was 
brought  down  from  the  mines. 

As  he  soon  learned,  it  came  by  stage  each  week, 
the  day  before  the  steamer  sailed.    The  bags  of  gold 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BUEGLARS  227 

dust  and  uncut  diamonds  were  locked  in  a  strong 
box  which  was  carried  under  the  driver's  seat. 
There  was  only  one  other  man  on  the  coach  besides 
the  driver — a  big,  powerful  Boer,  who  carried  a 
brace  of  revolvers  and  a  repeating  rifle  and  had  the 
reputation  of  being  a  dead  shot.  f 

There  was  just  one  difficulty  in  the  way — Ray- 
mond really  needed  a  third  man  to  assist  King  and 
him.  Among  all  the  criminals  in  Cape  Town  whom 
he  knew  there  was  none  he  could  trust,  and  so  he 
at  last  decided  to  ask  a  wholly  inexperienced  man 
to  join  the  party.  The  man  he  selected  was  an 
American  sea  captain  who  had  been  obliged  to  flee 
from  his  native  land  after  setting  fire  to  his  ship 
for  the  insurance.  He  was  desperately  in  need  of 
money  and  was,  therefore,  only  too  glad  of  the  op- 
portunity to  share  in  the  fortune  Raymond  proposed 
to  steal. 

Raymond,  with  his  customary  caution,  studied  the 
proposition  from  every  angle.  At  last  he  was  con- 
vinced that  he  had  provided  for  every  contingency 
which  could  possibly  arise  to  prevent  his  robbery  of 
the  coach. 

This  was  his  plan — to  stretch  a  rope  across  some 
lonely  spot  in  the  road  and  trip  the  horses.  Before 
the  driver  and  the  guard  could  recover  from  their 
astonishment  and  extricate  themselves  from  the 
overturned  coach,  Raymond  and  his  companions 
would  leap  from  their  ambush  and  overpower  them. 

Half  way  up  a  long  hill,  down  which  the  coach 
would  come,  the  three  men  concealed  themselves — • 


228  SOPHIE  LYONS 

i 

Raymend  and  the  captain  on  one  side  of  tke  road, 
King  on  the  other. 

Around  a  tree  on  either  side  of  the  road  they 
fastened  the  rope  with  a  slip  noose,  letting  its  length 
lie  loose  on  the  ground  directly  in  the  path  of  the 
coach.  Carefully  loading  their  revolvers  they  settled 
down  to  wait  for  its  approach. 

At  last  their  ears  caught  the  rumble  of  its  wheels 
and  presently  the  four  horses  which  drew  the  heavy 
vehicle  and  its  precious  contents  appeared  above 
the  crest  of  the  hill.  They  were  making  good  time 
on  the  last  lap  of  their  long  journey  from  the  mines. 

On  they  came,  until  the  hoofs  of  the  leaders  were 
within  a  foot  of  the  rope.  Eaymond  gave  a  shrill 
whistle  and  his  companions  stretched  the  rope  tight 
across  the  road  at  a  distance  of  about  two  feet  above 
the  ground. 

As  the  forward  horses  struck  the  barrier  they  fell 
in  a  heap  and  the  ones  behind  came  tumbling  on 
top  of  them.  The  wagon  pole  snapped  like  a  pipe 
stem. 

The  heavy  coach  stopped  short,  reeled  uncertainly 
for  a  second,  then  keeled  over  on  its  side,  hurling 
both  the  driver  and  the  guard  several  feet  away. 

The  three  robbers  sprang  from  their  hiding  place 
and  covered  the  prostrate  men  with  their  revolvers. 

As  they  did  so  one  of  the  fallen  horses  scrambled 
to  his  feet,  broke  the  remnants  of  the  harness  that 
clung  to  him  and  dashed  down  the  hill,  furious  with 
pain  and  fear. 

Not  one  of  the  robbers  paid  any  heed  to  this  in- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  229 

feident — for  who  would  have  suspected  that  a  fright- 
ened stage  horse  could  interfere  with  their  carefully 
laid  plans? 

The  driver  was  easily  disposed  of,  but  the  guard 
showed  fight  and  it  required  the  combined  efforts 
of  the  three  men  to  bind  and  gag  him  so  that  he 
could  do  no  harm. 

They  were  just  knotting  a  piece  of  rope  around 
his  struggling  legs  when  a  shot  rang  out  and  a  rifle 
bullet  whizzed  by  their  heads — followed  by  another 
and  another. 

An  instant  before  the  moon  had  broken  through 
the  clouds.  By  its  light  they  saw  six  sturdy  Boer 
farmers  advancing  up  the  hill,  firing  their  repeating 
rifles  as  they  came. 

Resistance  was  useless — they  were  outnumbered 
two  to  one  and  they  had  all  been  in  South  Africa 
long  enough  to  have  a  wholesome  respect  for  a 
Boer's  marksmanship. 

Covering  their  retreat  with  a  few  shots  from  their 
revolvers,  they  took  to  their  heels.  In  the  rain  of 
bullets  which  was  falling  around  them  it  was  suicide 
to  think  of  trying  to  take  the  heavy  strong  box  with 
them,  and  they  had  to  leave  it  there  in  the  coach 
with  all  its  treasure  untouched. 

Raymond  was  completely  mystified.  He  and  his 
companions  had  not  fired  a  shot  in  their  struggle 
with  the  men  on  the  coach.  How  had  those  Boer 
farmers,  who  lived  in  a  house  at  the  foot  of  the  hill 
nearty  half  a  mile  away,  happened  to  be  aroused 
just  in  time  to  spoil  the  robbery? 


230  SOPHIE  LYONS 

The  account  the  newspapers  gave  of  the  robbery 
cleared  up  the  mystery.  It  seemed  that  the  fright- 
ened horse  which  had  dashed  down  the  hill  had 
plunged  through  the  lattice  gate  in  the  front  of  the 
Boer's  house. 

The  crash  of  the  woodwork  and  the  wounded  ani-  < 
mal's  cries  of  pain  as  he  struggled  to  free  himself  i 
had  awakened  the  farmers.  As  they  rushed  out  half 
dressed  to  see  what  the  trouble  was  the  moon  shone 
out  and  revealed  to  them  the  overturned  coach  on 
the  hillside  above  and  the  robbers  struggling  with 
the  guard  and  driver. 

You  see  what  a  surprising  thing  it  all  was  and  how 
impossible  it  was  for  Kaymond  to  have  foreseen  that 
anything  like  this  would  happen.  But  these  two  lit- 
tle incidents — the  runaway  horse  and  the  moon's 
sudden  appearance — were  all  that  was  needed  to 
snatch  away  $250,000  in  gold  and  diamonds  just  as 
Kaymond  thought  he  had  it  safely  in  his  hands. 

Even  more  surprising  was  what  happened  when 
Tom  Smith  and  I,  with  Dan  Nugent  and  George 
Mason,  were  trying  to  rob  a  little  bank  down  in 
Virginia. 

The  fact  that  the  cashier  and  his  family  lived  on 
the  floor  above  this  bank  made  it  a  rather  ticklish 
undertaking. 

There  was,  however,  no  vault  to  enter,  and  the 
safe  was  such  a  ramshackle  affair  that  the  men  felt 
sure  they  could  open  it  without  the  use  of  a  charge 
of  powder.    So  we  decided  to  make  the  attempt. 

As  Tom  Smith  had  sprained  his  wrist  in  escaping 


SURPRISED  BY  A  SI,83P  WAI,K*R. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAKS  231 

from  a  Pennsylvania  sheriff  a  few  nights  before  he 
was  to  remain  on  guard  outside  the  bank,  while  I 
entered  with  Dan  and  George  and  rendered  what 
assistance  I  could  in  opening  the  safe.  This  was 
the  first  time  I  had  ever  been  on  the  "inside"  of  a 
bank  burglary  and  I  was  quite  purled  up  with  my 
own  importance. 

Dan  opened  one  of  the  bank  windows  with  his 
jimmy  and  held  his  hands  for  me  to  step  on  as  I 
drew  myself  up  over  the  high  sill.  Then  he  handed 
the  tools  to  me  and  he  and  George  climbed  up. 

The  bank  in  which  we  found  ourselves  was  one 
large  room.  A  door  led  into  it  from  the  broad  porch 
which  extended  along  the  front  of  the  building.  At 
the  rear  was  another  door  opening  into  a  long  pas- 
sageway, at  the  end  of  which  was  a  staircase  leading 
to  the  cashier's  apartments  overhead. 

While  the  two  men  were  looking  the  safe  over  I 
unlocked  the  front  door  to  provide  an  avenue  of  es- 
cape in  case  we  should  have  to  beat  a  hasty  retreat 

I  also  opened  the  door  at  the  rear  and  peered 
into  the  darkness  of  the  passageway.  There  was  no 
sign  of  life — no  sound  except  the  heavy  breathing 
of  the  sleeping  cashier  and  his  family  in  the  rooms 
above.  I  closed  the  door  gently  for  fear  the  rasping 
of  the  drills  on  the  metal  of  the  safe  would  be  heard. 

Just  then  my  quick  ears  caught  the  sound  of  some 
1  one  in  the  passageway.  I  tiptoed  over  to  the  door 
and  pressed  my  ear  against  it. 

I  had  barely  time  to  draw  away  from  the  door 
before  it  opened  wide  and  I  stood  speechless  with 


232  SOPHIE  LYONS 

amazement  at  the  apparition  I  saw  standing  there 
within  an  arm's  length  of  me. 

I  am  not  a  superstitious  woman,  but  what  I  saw  in 
that  doorway  set  my  heart  to  thumping  madly,  and 
sent  the  cold  shivers  up  and  down  my  back.  And 
I  am  not  ashamed  to  confess  how  startled  I  was,  for 
Dan  Nugent  and  George  Mason,  the  veterans  of  a 
hundred  burglaries,  later  admitted  that  nothing  had 
ever  given  them  such  a  scare  as  this. 

What  we  saw  facing  us,  like  a  ghost,  was  a  beauti- 
ful young  woman.  The  filmy  white  night  robe  she 
wore  left  her  snowy  arms  and  shoulders  bare  and 
revealed  her  bare  feet. 

Her  face  looked  pale  and  ghastly  in  the  light  of 
the  kerosene  lamp  she  carried  high  in  one  hand. 
The  mass  of  jet  black  hair  which  crowned  her  head 
and  hung  in  a  long  braid  down  her  back  made  her 
pallor  all  the  more  death-like. 

Her  eyes  were  shut  tight. 

For  a  minute  we  stood  blinking  like  frightened 
children  at  this  uncanny,  white,  silent  figure.  Then, 
gradually,  it  dawned  on  us  that  this  apparition  was 
the  cashier's  eldest  daughter,  and  that  she  was  walk- 
ing in  her  sleep. 

As  we  recovered  our  senses  it  didn't  take  us  long 
to  see  what  a  dangerous  situation  we  were  in.  At 
any  moment  our  unwelcome  visitor  might  awaken. 
By  the  time  we  could  bind  and  gag  her  the  rest  of 
the  family  might  discover  her  absence  and  start  in 
search  of  her. 

Tke  girl  looked  so  innocent  and  helpless  and  so 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  233 

strangely  beautiful  that,  for  my  part,  I  was  heartily 
glad  when  George  Mason  nodded  his  head  toward 
the  door  to  indicate  that  we  would  better  be  going. 

The  two  men  climbed  out  of  the  window  and  I 
made  my  escape  by  the  front  door.  The  last  I  saw 
of  the  sleep-walking  girl  she  was  groping  her  way 
across  the  bank  with  slow  cautious  steps,  still  hold- 
ing the  lamp  high  above  her  head  and  looking  more 
than  ever  like  a  graveyard  specter. 

Whether  anybody  except  ourselves  ever  knew  what 
a  strange  chance  saved  the  bank  from  robbery  that 
night  I  never  heard.  It  was  a  costly  experience 
for  us  as,  according  to  what  we  learned  later  from 
the  newspapers,  that  safe  contained  $20,000  in  cash. 

We  missed  that  tidy  little  bit  of  plunder  just  be- 
cause a  young  woman  was  addicted  to  the  habit  of 
walking  in  her  sleep. 

And  now  another  instance — the  very  remarkable 
chain  of  surprises  which  resulted  in  the  murder  of 
a  bank  cashier,  the  blackening  of  a  dead  man's  repu- 
tation, and,  finally,  the  imprisonment  of  two  des- 
perate burglars  for  life. 

For  many  years  the  robbery  of  the  bank  in  Dex- 
ter, Maine,  puzzled  everybody.  This  was  a  job  of 
national  importance,  because  Mr.  Barron,  the  cash- 
ier of  the  bank,  was  accidentally  murdered,  and  the 
detectives,  after  failing  to  get  any  clue  to  the  burg- 
lars, buncoed  the  bank  officials  by  inventing  the 
theory  that  the  unfortunate  cashier  had  murdered 
himself ! 

They  managed  to  fix  up  the  books  of  the  bank 


234  SOPHIE  LYONS 

in  such  a  way  as  to  show  some  trivial  pretended  de- 
falcation, which  amounted,  as  I  remember  it,  to  about 
$1,100.  On  the  strength  of  this  barefaced  frame-up 
the  memory  of  the  poor  cashier  was  defamed  and  the 
bank  actually  brought  suit  against  the  widow  for 
some  small  sum. 

The  real  facts  I  will  now  tell  you.  Jimmy  Hope, 
the  famous  bank  burglar,  first  got  his  eye  on  the 
Dexter  bank  as  a  promising  prospect,  and  made  all 
his  plans  to  enter  the  bank  when,  to  his  disgust,  he 
was  grabbed  for  another  matter  and  given  a  prison 
term.  In  Jimmy  Hope's  gang  was  an  ambitious 
burglar  named  David  L.  Stain,  and  Stain  decided 
that  there  was  no  reason  why  the  Dexter  bank 
should  escape  simply  because  Hope  was  serving  a 
sentence. 

So  Stain  looked  over  the  ground  and  decided  to 
rob  the  bank  with  a  little  band  of  his  own,  consisting 
of  Oliver  Cromwell  and  a  man  named  Harvey,  and 
somebody  else  whose  name  I  do  not  now  recall.  They 
selected  Washington's  Birthday  because  it  was  a 
holiday,  and  there  was  every  reason  to  believe  that 
nobody  would  be  in  the  bank. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  Stain  and  his  associates 
forced  their  way  into  the  building  and  sprung  the 
lock  of  the  back  door  of  the  bank.  The  burglars 
stood  for  a  moment  to  put  on  their  masks  and  rub- 
ber shoes,  and  then  Stain  moved  forward  toward 
the  inner  room  of  the  bank,  where  the  bank  vaults 
were. 

Just  at  the  moment  that  Stain  put  his  hand  on 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  235 

the  doorknob  Cashier  Barron  on  the  other  side  of  the 
door  put  his  own  hand  on  the  inside  knob  as  he  un- 
suspectingly started  to  leave  the  inside  room,  where 
he  had  been  going  over  some  of  the  books  that  were 
in  the  vaults. 


AS  THE  DOOR  OPENED  STAIN  AND  BARRON  CAME  FACE  TO  FACE 


As  the  door  opened  Dave  Stain  and  Cashier  Bar- 
ron suddenly  came  face  to  face  without  the  slightest 
warning.  Barron  stood  paralyzed  with  astonish- 
ment as  he  peered  into  the  masked  face  of  the  leader. 
Stain,  with  perfect  composure,  struck  Barron  a 
quick  blow  with  a  slung-shot,  landing  the  weapon 
exactly  in  the  center  of  Mr.  Barron  's  forehead. 

The  cashier  dropped  to  the  floor  stunned  and  Stain 
imagined  that  his  victim's  skull  was  crushed,  or  that, 
if  the  blow  had  not  been  fatal,  Barron  would  come  to 


236  SOPHIE  LYONS 

his  senses  and  make  an  outcry.  In  either  case  the 
burglars  realized  that  they  had  done  a  bad  job. 
Murder  was  not  intended,  and  none  of  the  gang  had 
any  stomach  for  going  on  with  the  robbery,  even 
though  the  doors  of  the  big  vault  stood  invitingly 
open. 

After  a  few  moments'  hasty  consultation  the 
cracksmen  picked  up  the  unconscious  but  still  breath- 
ing form  of  the  faithful  cashier  and  laid  it  in  the 
vault,  and  closed  and  locked  the  big  doors.  Stain 
and  his  gang  made  their  way  noiselessly  out  of  the 
building,  strolling,  one  by  one,  through  the  town 
and  out  into  the  country,  where  a  span  of  horses 
was  waiting  for  them.  They  drove  across  country, 
keeping  away  from  the  railroad,  and  made  their 
escape  without  leaving  a  clue  of  any  kind. 

When  Cashier  Barron  failed  to  turn  up  at  home 
at  supper  time  a  search  was  made  and  somebody 
went  to  the  bank.  The  cashier's  hat  and  coat  were 
found  in  the  inner  room,  and  a  faint  sound  of  heavy 
breathing  could  be  heard  from  the  interior  of  the 
closed  vault.  Blacksmiths  were  hastily  called,  and, 
after  several  hours'  work,  succeeded  in  freeing  the 
imprisoned  cashier — but,  although  Barron  was  still 
alive  and  breathing,  his  face  was  black  from  his 
having  breathed  over  and  over  again  the  poisoned 
air  of  the  vault,  and  he  died  without  recovering  con- 
aciousness. 

Several  years  later  a  clue  to  the  real  truth  of  the 
tragedy  was  picked  up  by  a  newspaper  reporter, 
who  devoted  several  weeks  of  painstaking  work  to 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  237 

piecing  together  the  scraps  of  evidence  he  was  able 
to  collect.  This  reporter  then  had  himself  appointed 
a  Massachusetts  State  detective  and  arrested  Stain 
and  Cromwell,  brought  them  to  Bangor,  Maine,  was 
able  to  have  them  identified  by  several  townspeople 
who  had  seen  them  in  Dexter  on  the  day  of  the  mur- 
der, and  Stain  and  Cromwell  were  both  convicted 
of  murder  in  the  first  degree,  and  the  conviction  was 
unanimously  confirmed  by  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
State  of  Maine.  They  were  sentenced  to  life  im- 
prisonment. 

I  could  go  on  indefinitely  recounting  instances  as 
surprising  as  any  of  these  of  the  unexpected  things 
which  are  constantly  happening  to  prevent  criminals 
succeeding  in  their  undertakings.  But  these  which 
I  have  mentioned  are  enough  to  show  any  thoughtful 
man  or  woman  how  hazardous  and  how  profitless 
crime  always  is. 

Success  in  crime  is  achieved  only  at  the  risk  of 
life  and  liberty.  In  a  few  rare  cases  the  criminal 
escapes  these  penalties,  but,  even  so,  his  ill  gotten 
gains  melt  rapidly  away  and  bring  him  no  lasting 
happiness.  And,  as  I  have  shown  here  to-day,  a 
large  percentage  of  the  crimes  he  undertakes  yield 
him  nothing  for  all  the  time,  thought,  and  effort  he 
has  to  give  them. 

Each  chapter  of  my  own  life,  as  I  am  now  recalling 
it,  and  the  lives  of  all  the  criminals  I  have  ever 
known,  only  give  added  emphasis  to  the  fact  which 
I  want  to  impress  on  you — that  ckime  does  not  pay. 


238  SOPHIE  LYONS 


CHAPTER  XI 

THRILLING   EVENTS    WHICH   CROWDED   ONE   SHORT   WEEK 

OF   MY  LIFE HOW   I  PROFITED   NOTHING  FROM 

ALL  THE  RISKS  I  FACED 

Not  all  the  crimes  the  professional  criminal  com- 
mits are  carefully  planned  in  advance.  Very  often 
they  are  committed  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  when 
the  opportunity  to  steal  some  article  of  value  with- 
out detection  suddenly  presents  itself.  The  habit 
of  wrongdoing  becomes  so  strongly  developed  that 
the  thief  is  unable  to  resist  the  temptation  to  steal 
even  when  he  is  not  in  need  of  money  and  when  there 
is  every  incentive  for  him  to  avoid  the  risk  of  ar- 
rest. 

This  was  exactly  what  happened  to  me  in  Spring- 
field, Mass.,  one  day.  The  fact  that  I  was  unable 
to  withstand  the  glittering  lure  of  a  tray  full  of 
diamonds  proved  the  starting  point  of  one  of  the 
most  eventful  weeks  of  my  life. 

What  happened  to  me  during  the  week  which  be- 
gan with  my  bold  robbery  of  a  Springfield  diamond 
merchant  is  as  good  an  example  as  I  can  select  from 
my  past  career  to  give  point  to  the  lesson  I  have 
learned  and  am  trying  to  teach — that  crime  in  the 
long  run  can  never  be  made  to  pay. 

Just  think  of  it — in  the  seven  days  that  followed 
the  unlucky  moment  when  I  thrust  my  hand  into  that 
open  showcase  in  Springfield  I  was  arrested  three 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  239 

times,  jumped  my  bail  once,  and  successfully  made 
my  escape  from  a  Boston  cell.  During  all  that  time 
I  was  never  free  from  fear  of  arrest — asleep  or 
awake,  I  would  start  at  the  slightest  sound,  fearful 
that  it  was  a  detective  coming  to  snap  those  hateful 
handcuffs  on  my  wrists  again. 

And  what  did  I  have  to  show  for  all  the  nervous 
strain,  all  the  suffering  and  hardship  I  underwent 
during  that  week?  Worse  than  nothing  at  all.  Al- 
though I  stole  cash  and  valuables  amounting  to  more 
than  seven  thousand  dollars,  I  was  penniless  when 
I  finally  succeeded  in  getting  back  to  New  York. 

A  good  share  of  the  money  had  gone  to  the  law- 
yers. A  thousand  dollars  of  it  I  had  been  obliged 
to  leave  behind  when  I  made  my  escape  from  the 
Boston  police,  and  the  trayful  of  diamond  rings  I 
had  stolen  was  hidden  in  Springfield,  where  I  would 
not  dare  show  my  face  for  many  months.  Even 
the  rings  on  my  own  fingers  had  gone  to  pay  my 
lawyers'  fees  and  my  bail. 

But  let  me  go  back  to  the  very  beginning  and  ex- 
plain just  how  all  these  things  came  about. 

It  was  when  I  was  on  my  way  back  from  an  un- 
successful bank  robbing  expedition  to  a  Canadian 
town.  I  was  feeling  tired,  out  of  sorts  and  generally 
disgusted  with  myself.  "If  I  ever  get  back  to  my 
home  in  New  York,"  I  said  to  myself  remorsefully, 
"I  will  surely  settle  down  to  an  honest  life." 

But  alas  for  all  my  good  intentions !  Just  before 
I  reached  Springfield  I  happened  to  recall  that  this 
was  where  an  old  school  friend  of  mine  lived.    She 


240  SOPHIE  LYONS 

was  a  thoroughly  respectable  woman,  the  wife  of  a 
hard  working  tradesman,  and  I  determined  to  stop 
off  and  surprise  her  with  a  visit. 

As  luck  would  have  it,  I  found  her  house  locked, 
and  one  of  her  neighbors  told  me  that  she  was  away 
visiting  her  mother  in  "Worcester.  Knowing  no  one 
else  in  Springfield,  there  was  nothing  for  me  to  do 
but  kill  time  for  two  or  three  hours  until  another 
train  left  for  New  York. 

I  was  strolling  leisurely  along  one  of  the  main 
streets  as  innocent  as  one  of  my  babies  of  any  in- 
tention of  wrongdoing,  when  I  happened  to  notice 
something  wrong  with  my  watch.  The  hands  had 
evidently  stuck  together,  and  it  had  stopped  more 
than  an  hour  before.  Just  across  the  street  I  saw 
a  large  jewelry  store.  I  walked  over  there  to  see 
about  my  watch.  It  was  the  noon  hour  and  the  store 
was  deserted  except  for  an  old  man  whom  I  judged 
to  be  the  proprietor,  and,  at  his  bench  far  in  the  rear, 
a  lone  watchmaker. 

The  proprietor  was  arranging  some  trays  of  dia- 
monds in  one  of  the  showcases  when  I  approached 
him  and  stated  my  errand.  He  said  my  watch  could 
be  fixed  in  two  minutes,  and  started  off  with  it  to 
the  watchmaker's  bench.  His  back  was  no  sooner 
turned  than  I  took  in  the  fact  that  he  had  neglected 
to  close  the  sliding  door  of  the  showcase.  Inside 
there,  within  easy  reach  of  my  long  arms,  were  two, 
three,  a  dozen  trays  of  costly  diamond  rings, 
brooches,  and  necklaces. 

Forgetting  all  my  recent  resolutions  and  regard- 


QUEEN  OP  THE  BURGLARS  241 

less  of  the  consequences  I  reached  my  hand  across 
the  showcase  and  down  inside.  It  took  a  powerful 
stretch  of  my  muscles  to  reach  the  nearest  of  the 
trays.  But  at  last  my  fingers  closed  securely  over 
its  edge,  and,  with  a  skill  born  of  long  experience, 
I  drew  my  arm  back  and  the  tray  of  rings  came 
with  it. 

This  was  an  operation  that  required  a  good  deal 
of  care,  because  in  my  position  the  tray  was  not  an 
easy  thing  to  handle  without  letting  some  of  its 
precious  contents  fall  clattering  to  the  floor  and  give 
the  alarm.  In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell,  how- 
ever, and  before  the  proprietor  had  fairly  reached 
the  watchmaker's  bench,  I  had  the  tray  safely  con- 
cealed in  my  handbag. 

The  proprietor  returned  with  my  watch.  It  was 
only  a  trivial  matter  to  adjust  it,  he  said,  and  there 
would  be  no  charge  whatever.  I  thanked  him  and 
hurried  out,  shaking  inwardly  for  fear  he  would 
discover  the  absence  of  the  tray  of  rings  before  I 
could  lose  myself  in  the  streets. 

After  getting  his  plunder  a  thief's  first  thought  is 
to  get  it  out  of  his  possession.  What  he  wants  is  a 
temporary  hiding  place — a  place  where  he  can  con- 
ceal it  until  whatever  outcry  the  theft  may  have 
caused  has  had  time  to  die  down  and  he  can  safely 
dispose  of  his  booty  to  one  of  the  numerous  "fences" 
who  are  to  be  found  in  every  large  city.  Whenever 
possible,  the  prudent  thief  selects  a  temporary  hid- 
ing place  ociVit  iie  avtUaAy  Iay»  his  iiAxids  on  his 
plunder,  and  loses  no  time  in  getting  it  out  of  his 


242  SOPHIE  LYONS 

possession,  so  that,  in  case  the  police  arrest  him 
soon  after  the  robbery,  they  will  find  nothing  in- 
criminating. 

This  crime  of  mine,  however,  was  so  entirely  un- 
premeditated that  I  had  not  the  faintest  idea  what  I 
was  going  to  do  with  my  tray  of  rings  when  I  walked 
out  of  the  store.  Down  the  street  a  few  blocks  I 
saw  the  railroad  station,  and  this  suggested  a  plan. 
I  would  check  my  bag  there  and  hide  the  check  in 
some  place  where  I  could  easily  recover  it  whenever 
the  coast  was  clear. 

This  was  a  plan  I  had  often  followed  with  success, 
and  it  is  a  favorite  with  thieves  even  to  this  day.  I 
saw  by  the  newspapers  that  the  misguided  young 
man  who  robbed  the  New  York  jewelry  firm  of  $100,- 
000  worth  of  gems  the  other  day  went  straight  to 
the  Pennsylvania  Eailroad  Station  and  checked  the 
suitcase  containing  the  plunder  which  had  tempted 
him  to  his  ruin. 

By  this  time  all  intention  of  reform  had  left  my 
mind,  and  I  thought  only  of  the  ways  I  could  use 
the  money  the  diamonds  would  bring.  The  hurried 
inspection  I  had  been  able  to  give  them  placed  their 
value  at  fully  $3,000. 

I  walked  quickly,  but  with  no  outward  signs  of 
excitement  to  the  station,  where  I  locked  my  hand- 
bag and  exchanged  it  for  a  brass  check.  Then  I 
walked  out  of  the  station  and  seated  myself  on  a 
bench  in  the  public  square.  It  was  the  work  of  only 
a  minute  to  dig  a  little  cavity  in  the  gravel  under 
one  of  the  legs  of  the  bench  with  the  pointed  heel 


QUEEN  OF.  THE  BURGLARS  243 

of  my  French  boot.  A  big  red-faced  policeman  was 
standing  uncomfortably  near  all  the  while,  but  soon 
he  turned  his  back.  I  bent  over  quickly,  placed  the 
check  in  the  little  hole  I  had  dug,  and  quickly  cov- 
ered it  with  earth.  I  continued  sitting  there  for 
some  minutes,  making  a  mental  photograph  of  the 
spot  so  that  I  would  be  able  to  locate  it  again,  even 
if  I  had  to  wait  months. 

As  I  rose  and  crossed  the  square  to  a  department 
store  I  realized  that  I  had  not  acted  a  bit  too  quickly, 
for  I  overheard  some  men  discussing  the  daring 
robbery  of  the  jewelry  store.  It  had  just  been  dis- 
covered, so  they  said,  and  the  police  were  already 
scouring  the  city  for  the  thieves. 

I  made  haste  to  purchase  a  satchel  very  similar 
in  appearance  to  the  one  containing  the  diamonds. 
In  this  I  placed  a  few  trinkets  and  such  things  as  a 
woman  might  naturally  carry,  and  returned  to  the 
railroad  station.  I  checked  this  satchel  just  as  I 
had  the  other,  and  walked  away — my  mind  somewhat 
at  rest 

Walking  along  the  main  street  I  encountered  a 
detective  who  was  convoying  a  couple  of  men  to  the 
station.  The  face  of  one  of  the  men  was  familiar, 
and  he  recognized  me  before  I  could  town  away. 
Using  a  store  window  as  a  mirror  I  was  able  to  see 
that  all  three  had  stopped  across  the  street  and 
were  looking  at  me,  I  lost  no  time  in  getting  away, 
and  the  detective,  of  course,  had  his  hands  fulL 
But  I  knew  my  chances  of  getting  out  of  town  were 
mighty  slim,  and  it  was  no  surprise  an  hour  later 


244  SOPHIE  LYONS 

when  two  detectives  confronted  me  at  the  station. 

1 '  How  do  you  do  1 ' '  said  one ; ' '  do  you  live  here  ! '  9 

"I  live  in  New  Haven,"  I  said,  rapidly  adding  a 
fiotitious  name  and  address.  I  explained  my  visit 
to  town,  but  they  were  not  satisfied  and  to  the  police 
station  I  went. 

In  searching  me  the  detectives  held  up  my  satchel 
check  and  hurried  off  gleefully  to  the  depot,  quite 
certain  that  they  had  found  the  missing  diamonds. 

They  returned  crestfallen,  but  the  captain  had  an 
instinct  that  told  him  I  had  those  diamonds  and  he 
ordered  me  locked  up  over  night. 

From  a  neighboring  cell  the  two  men  arrested  ear- 
lier in  the  day  called  out: 

' i  Hello,  Sophie,  how  did  you  get  in  1 ' ' 

I  did  not  answer,  and  pretended  not  to  know  them. 
The  police  unlocked  my  cell  door  and  invited  me  to 
come  out  and  meet  my  friends,  hoping,  of  course, 
to  learn  something. 

But  I  said  in  a  loud  voice  that  I  never  saw  the 
men  before,  and  that  they  must  have  mistaken  me. 
The  two  men  were  good  enough  to  take  the  hint  at 
this  point  that  I  was  in  trouble,  and  soon  after  I 
heard  one  of  them  saying  that  from  a  distance  1 
looked  like  Sophie  Lyons. 

In  the  morning  the  police  captain  reluctantly  re- 
leased me.  But  he  sent  a  detective  to  make  sure  I 
got  out  of  town,  and  he  gave  me  his  parting  promise 
to  run  me  in  if  I  ever  came  within  his  reach. 

There  was  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  to  take  the 
train  and  hope  to  return  some  day  for  the  diamonds. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BUKGLARS  245 

I  got  off  at  New  Haven  and  sat  in  the  railroad  sta- 
tion pondering  ways  and  means. 

My  thoughts  were  interrupted  by  the  appearance 
of  Lizzie  Saunders,  a  woman  criminal  of  no  mean 
ability.  From  the  effusiveness  of  her  welcome  I 
suspected  that  she  was  "broke"  and  wanted  a  loan, 
as,  indeed,  proved  to  be  the  case. 

I  hadn't  much  to  spare,  and  was  forced  to  listen 
to  her  schemes.  She  told  me  that  the  town  of  Hol- 
yoke  was  a  splendid  place  to  pick  up  money,  as  it 
was  crowded  with  farmers  attending  a  fair. 

I  was  tired  and  disgusted  and  wanted  to  return 
to  New  York.  Yet  I  did  not  want  to  go  so  far  from 
the  diamonds,  and,  foolishly,  I  listened  and  was 
persuaded. 

Arrived  at  Holyoke  we  investigated  the  banks,  but 
saw  no  chance  of  snatching  anything.  We  were  both 
very  much  in  need  of  raising  some  funds  right 
away,  and  something  had  to  be  done. 

A  sure-enough  farmer  cashed  a  large  check, 
counted  the  money  five  times,  laid  it  in  a  huge  wal- 
let, and  tied  the  wallet  together  with  a  piece  of 
string.  Then  he  placed  it  in  the  breast  pocket  of 
his  coat  and  marched  out.  Of  course,  we  followed. 
Lizzie,  who  was  known  as  "The  Woman  in  Black," 
jecause  she  never  wore  anything  else,  kept  a  lookout 
while  I  operated. 

The  old  man  was  watching  the  street  parade, 
hands  in  his  trousers  pockets,  chin  stuck  out,  and 
whiskers  projecting  a  foot  in  front  of  him. 

I  reached  my  hand  into  his  pocket,  got  a  grip  on 


24G  SOPHIE  LYONS 

the  wallet,  and  was  about  to  give  the  quick  snap  of 
the  wrist  and  jostle,  which  is  part  of  the  pickpocket's 
technique,  when  I  felt  a  heavy  hand  on  my  shoulder. 
I  knew  instinctively  that  it  was  a  detective.  Quickly 
thrusting  the  bulky  wallet  back  into  the  old  man's 


I  PELT  A  HAND  ON  MY  SHOULDER 

pocket,  I  threw  my  arms  around  his  neck  and  kissed 
him. 

"'Oh,  Uncle  Dan!"  I  cried  between  the  kisses,  with 
which  I  fairly  smothered  the  astonished  old  man; 
" where  in  the  world  did  you  come  from?" 

The  old  man  almost  got  apoplexy,  for  I  kissed  him 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  247 

and  hugged  him  with  a  vehemence  that  made  every- 
body forget  the  parade.  I  can  remember  the  sea  of 
whiskers  I  dived  into. 

"Gosh  all  hemlock,  who  are  you!"  he  gasped 
when  I  let  him  go.    ' '  I  ain  't  Dan,  I  'm  Abijah. ' ' 

The  detective  really  believed  that  I  knew  Abijah, 
but  he  remembered  Lizzie  and  took  her  away.  I 
was  about  to  escape  when  a  redfaced  woman  arrived 
and  shouted: 

"You  hussy,  what  do  you  mean  by  hugging  my 

husband!" 

The  detective  hesitated  and  looked  back,  but  he 
would  have  let  me  go  if  Lizzy  hadn't  been  fool 
enough  to  call  out : 

1  *  Sophie,  find  me  a  lawyer  and  get  me  out  of  this. '■  f 

That  was  enough  even  for  the  thick-headed  police 
detective,  and  he  took  us  both  away.  The  old  man 
refused  to  testify  against  us.  He  was  afraid  he 
would  not  be  believed  and  the  scandal  would  get  back 
to  his  home  town.    He  was  right ;  it  would  have. 

Arrived  at  the  station,  no  talk  or  acting  was  of  the 
slightest  avail,  and  the  judge  next  day  held  us  each 
in  $500  bail. 

We  raised  that  amount  on  jewelry,  and,  of  course, 
"jumped"  it  and  arrived  at  Boston  together. 

I  was  thoroughly  disgusted  with  Lizzie,  but  she 
stuck  to  me  like  a  leech,  in  spite  of  a  dozen  tricks 
that  would  have  rid  me  of  a  detective. 

At  last  I  succeeded  in  getting  away  from  her  and 
happened  to  meet  an  all-round  knight  of  the  under- 
world known  as  "Frisco  Farley."     Together  we 


248  SOPHIE  LYONS 

worked  the  soda  fountain  trick,  which  was  new  then, 
and  which  I  will  explain  in  a  later  article. 

In  the  course  of  the  day  we  took  in  considerable 
profits,  which  had  not  been  divided  or  even  counted 
when  we  foolishly  stepped  into   a  jewelry   store, 
merely  to  look  at  a  new-fangled  thief -proof  show-  j 
case. 

The  first  thing  I  knew,  Farley  was  gone  and  I  was 
arrested.  It  seems  Farley  had  operated  in  that 
store  a  year  ago,  had  been  noticed  and  had  escaped 
just  in  time.    I  was  arrested  as  his  accomplice. 

On  the  way  to  the  station  what  worried  me  most 
was  the  fact  that  I  had  in  my  pocket  a  ticket  to  New 
York.  In  Boston,  for  some  reason,  a  ticket  to  New 
York  is  looked  upon  by  the  police  as  conclusive  evi- 
dence of  guilt. 

I  burst  into  tears  and  wailed  and  sobbed  at  the 
shame  and  humiliation  of  my  arrest.  By  concealing 
the  ticket  in  my  handkerchief  I  managed  to  get  it 
into  my  mouth  as  I  wiped  away  my  tears.  Long 
before  we  reached  the  station  house  I  had  chewed 
up  the  small  piece  of  pasteboard  and  swallowed  it. 

The  story  I  told  had  only  one  weak  spot.  There 
was  $400  more  in  my  pocketbook  than  I  though t> 
and  this  one  discrepancy  made  them  lock  me  up. 

That  night  I  was  placed  in  a  cell  with  an  in- 
toxicated woman.  I  was  able  to  send  out  and  get 
a  bottle  of  whiskey,  but  not  for  myself.  About  mid- 
night the  woman  woke  up  and  was  glad  of  a  drink. 
I  not  only  gave  her  one,  but  many,  until  she  was  in 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  249 

a  stupor  and  made  no  protest  when  I  changed  clothes 
with  her. 

In  those  days,  in  Boston,  it  was  usually  the  cus- 
tom to  let  intoxicated  persons  sleep  in  a  cell  and 
then  to  put  them  out  on  the  street  in  the  morning 
without  bringing  them  to  court. 

In  the  morning  I  pretended  to  be  half  sober  and 
protested  violently  against  being  thrown  out  in  the 
cold.  But  they  pushed  me  out  onto  the  sidewalk, 
much  to  my  outward  grief  and  inward  joy. 

I  borrowed  the  price  of  a  ticket  to  New  York, 
leaving  my  money  in  the  police  station  and  my 
jewels  at  Springfield.  Thus  a  week  of  hard,  nerve- 
wrecking  work  netted  me  absolutely  not  one  cent, 
but  in  reality  the  loss  of  my  jewels,  my  time,  and 
considerable  money. 


250  SOPHIE  LYONS 


CHAPTEE   XII 

GOOD   DEEDS    WHICH    CEIMINALS    DO    AND    WHICH    SHOW 
THAT  EVEN  THE  WORST  THIEF  IS  NEVER  WHOLLY  BAD 

A  life  of  crime  is  a  life  of  hard  work,  great  risk, 
and,  comparatively  speaking,  small  pay.  Anyone 
who  has  followed  these  articles  will  agree  at  once 
that  whatever  the  criminal  gets  out  of  his  existence 
he  pays  very  dearly  for.  Not  only  is  he  constantly 
running  great  physical  dangers — the  risk  of  being 
shot  or  otherwise  injured  and  of  being  caught  and 
imprisoned — but  many  of  his  most  carefully  planned 
criminal  enterprises  are  doomed  to  failure  and  he 
has  only  his  labor  for  his  pains. 

Quite  frequently  bank  burglars  devote  as  much  as 
three  or  four  months  of  hard  labor  in  preparing  for 
an  important  robbery  .and,  in  a  large  percentage 
of  cases,  they  find  that,  after  all  their  patience  and 
industry,  it  is  impossible  for  them  to  execute  the 
robbery  they  have  so  carefully  planned  and  all  their 
work  goes  for  nought.  Sometimes,  too,  they  are  in- 
terrupted in  their  work  and  have  to  flee,  leaving  be- 
hind their  kits  of  valuable  tools.  Watchmen's  bul- 
lets are  ever  threatening  their  lives  and  prison  walls 
constantly  loom  up  before  them. 

In  view  of  these  facts  one  would  imagine  that  the 
money  which  the  professional  criminal  makes  at  such 
great  risk  and  expense  and  with  so  much  difficulty 
would  have  an  enhanced  value  in  his  eyes.    But  this 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  251 

is  not  so.  Not  only  is  the  professional  criminal  an 
inveterate  gambler,  as  I  have  repeatedly  pointed  out, 
but  the  great  majority  of  them  are  generous  to  a 
fault. 

While  this  generosity  is  almost  universal  in  the 
underworld,  those  unfamiliar  with  the  workings  of 
the  criminal  heart  would  give  it  very  little  credit  for 
such  impulses. 

My  experience  in  the  underworld  has  thoroughly 
convinced  me  that  no  criminal  is  wholly  bad.  I 
know  that  beneath  the  rough  exterior  of  many  of  the 
desperate  criminals  with  whom  I  came  in  contact 
beat  hearts  that  were  tender.  To-day  I  shall  relate 
some  of  the  more  striking  incidents  which  come  back 
to  me  and  which  illustrate  some  of  the  good  qualities 
possessed  by  the  notorious  criminals  with  whom  I 
associated. 

I  am  reminded  of  an  experience  I  had  with  Dan 
Nugent,  the  bank  burglar.  I  may  say  incidentally 
that  this  man  Nugent  was  absolutely  fearless  and 
would  resort  to  any  measure,  however  desperate,  to 
accomplish  his  purpose.  He  was  a  man  to  be  feared 
and  it  was  dangerous  to  cross  him.  But  that  this 
criminal  had  some  very  excellent  qualities  will  ap- 
pear from  the  following  incident,  now  told  for  the 
first  time. 

While  in  Kansas  City  I  robbed  a  bank,  securing 
some  four  thousand  dollars.  As  I  was  leaving  the 
bank — it  was  in  the  day  time — I  saw  Nugent  going 
in.  Evidently  he  had  planned  to  rob  the  bank  him- 
self.   We  did  not  speak. 


252  SOPHIE  LYONS 

Within  a  few  minutes  after  my  departure  the  rob- 
bery was  discovered.  The  doors  were  at  once  closed 
and  no  one  was  allowed  to  leave  without  first  under- 
going the  scrutiny  of  the  detectives  who  had  been 
summoned  by  telephone.  Poor  Dan  was  caught  in 
the  trap  and  his  identity  being  established  he  was  at 
once  arrested  on  suspicion  of  having  been  implicated 
in  the  robbery,  if  not  the  actual  perpetrator  of  it, 
although  the  only  evidence  against  him  was  the  fact 
of  being  on  the  premises. 

Dan  was  kept  in  custody  for  some  hours,  but  at 
length  the  police  were  compelled  to  let  him  go,  be- 
ing unable  to  strengthen  their  case  against  him. 

Later  that  day  I  happened  to  run  into  him. 

" Sophie,' '  he  said  threateningly,  "you  owe  me 
two  thousand  dollars  !" 

"How  do  you  make  that  out?"  I  asked  quite  in- 
nocently, not  knowing  to  what  he  was  referring. 
I  didn't  know  then  that  the  robbery  I  had  committed 
had  been  discovered  and  that  Nugent  had  been  ar- 
rested for  it. 

"You  got  four  thousand  dollars  in  the  bank  this 
morning/ '  he  replied  bitterly,  "and  I  got  arrested 
for  it" 

He  seemed  to  be  in  a  very  ugly  frame  of  mind 
and  I  knew  he  was  not  a  man  to  be  trifled  with.  I 
asked  him  to  step  into  a  cafe  and  talk  it  over.  We 
entered  the  back  room  of  a  nearby  saloon  and  Nu- 
gent ordered  some  drinks. 

There  were  various  persons  seated  at  other  tables 
in  the  place,  but  we  attracted  no  particular  atten- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLAKS  253 

tion.  After  tlie  waiter  had  served  us  and  left  the 
room,  Nugent  took  off  his  hat,  held  it  across  the 
table  as  though  he  were  handing  it  to  me,  and  be- 
neath the  shelter  it  afforded  pointed  a  gun  at  me. 


SOPHIE,  IF  YOU  DON'T  HAND  ME  $2,000,  I'LL  BLOW  YOUR 


4  "Sophie,  if  you  don't  divide  up  on  that  job,  I  will 
blow  your  head  off !"  he  threatened  in  a  low  voice. 
I  admit  I  was  frightened,  but  I  did  not  lose  my 
head.  Instead  I  began  to  cry  copiously. 
I  "Dan,"  I  sobbed,  "I  declare  by  all  I  hold  holy 
I  didn't  get  any  money  in  the  bank  this  morning. 
IVe  just  gotten  out  of  jail  and  I'm  dead  broke. 
My  poor  children  need  lots  of  things  I  can't  buy 
them.    I  wish  I  had  got  that  money  at  the  bank  this 


254  SOPHIE  LYONS 

morning,  but  I  didn't.  It  must  have  been  some  one 
else  who  made  a  safe  get-away,  and  I  think  it's 
pretty  mean  of  you  to  treat  me  this  way,"  and  I 
began  to  cry  more  strenuously  than  ever. 

Dan  looked  at  me  a  moment  searchingly  and  then, 
deciding  that  my  grief  was  genuine,  put  up  his 
gun. 

1 ! Don't  cry,  Sophie.  I  thought  you  got  the  money, 
and  I  wanted  my  bit,  that's  all.  I'm  sorry  to  have 
scared  you.    Forget  it,  old  girl,  and  cheer  up." 

Nugent  then  asked  me  what  the  kids  at  home 
needed,  and  I  told  him  everything  I  could  think  of. 
He  took  me  by  the  arm  and  marched  me  into  a  dry 
goods  store  and  made  a  number  of  purchases  of 
the  things  he  thought  the  children  would  want,  and 
gave  them  to  me,  along  with  a  little  money  for  my- 
self. "We  then  parted,  Nugent  wishing  me  all  kinds 
of  luck  and  firmly  believing  in  my  fairy  tale. 

I  really  ought  to  have  shared  the  money  with  Nu- 
gent because  I  had  stolen  a  march  on  him  in  robbing 
the  bank  before  he  got  a  chance,  and  he  got  into 
trouble  through  me.  But  I  knew  he  had  made  a  big 
haul  in  a  bank  a  month  previous,  and  I  was  prac- 
tically without  funds,  so  he  could  more  easily  afford 
the  loss  of  the  two  thousand  than  I  could.  But,  like 
most  criminals,  Nugent  had  a  kind  heart,  and,  when 
his  finer  nature  was  appealed  to,  he  could  not  help 
being  noble  and  generous. 

As  another  illustration  of  the  kindness  of  heart 
of  some  criminals,  let  me  tell  of  a  letter  I  received 
ft om  a  world-renowned  criminal,  whose  name  I  will 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  255 

mot  now  disclose.  This  unfortunate  man  is  now  serv- 
ing a  term  in  a  foreign  prison  for  a  daring  bank 
robbery  in  which  he  was  caught  through  his  anxiety 
to  help  a  pal — although  if  he  had  thought  only  of 
himself  he  would  have  been  free.  I  will  quote  from 
his  letter  to  me  and  you  will  see  the  kindness  that 
dwells  in  his  big  heart: 

My  dear  Pal  : — Now,  I  want  you  to  do  me  a  little 
favor.  Don't  send  me  any  money  or  presents  at 
Christmas,  but  take  the  money  that  you  would  use 
on  me,  and  go  out  and  buy  some  turkeys  and  give 
them  to  some  of  the  poor  people  who  live  around 
your  place.  It  will  make  them  feel  good,  and  it  will 
be  a  better  way  to  use  the  money  than  to  waste  it 
by  sending  it  over  to  me." 

A  man  who  can  write  such  a  thoughtful  letter  as 
the  above  and  can  sympathize  with  others  in  dis- 
tress is  not  entirely  a  bad  man,  even  though  he  is 
a  convicted  criminal.  It  is  sad,  indeed,  to  think  that 
such  a  large  hearted  man  should  have  to  spend  most 
of  his  days  behind  prison  bars  instead  of  being  at 
some  kind  of  labor  where  he  could  be  of  service  to 
mankind  and  do  all  the  decent  things  which  his 
kindly  thoughts  of  others  would  prompt  him  to  do. 

Not  because  I  want  to  convey  the  impression  that 
I  am  better  than  any  of  the  other  criminals  whose 
exploits  I  am  narrating,  but,  on  the  contrary,  be- 
cause the  incident  I  am  about  to  relate  is  typical  of 
what  notorious  criminals  are  doing  every  day,  I 


256  SOPHIE  LYONS 

am  going  to  tell  of  another  experience  in  which  I 
figured. 

It  was  when  I  was  in  New  York.  One  day,  while 
loitering  in  a  bank  in  the  vicinity  of  Broadway  and 
Chambers  street,  I  observed  a  woman  draw  some 
money.  She  put  it  in  a  handkerchief  and  then  placed 
jthe  handkerchief  in  her  pocket.  I  was  in  need  of 
money  pretty  badly  just  then  and  decided  to  follow 
the  woman  and  get  the  money. 

After  she  came  out  of  the  bank  I  got  close  to  her 
and  had  no  trouble  in  taking  out  the  handkerchief 
and  the  money.  She  was  walking  down  toward  the 
river  front  and,  having  started  in  that  direction,  too, 
I  had  to  continue  for  a  block  or  so  in  order  not  to 
excite  suspicion  by  turning  back.  I  walked  a  little 
behind  the  woman,  and,  when  we  reached  the  middle 
of  the  block,  she  stopped  and  spoke  to  me: 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  madame,  but  can  you  tell 
me  where  the  French  line  steamboats  dock?" 

I  directed  her  to  the  proper  place  and  we  got  into 
conversation.  She  told  me  that  she  was  going  home 
to  her  mother  in  France  in  order  to  die  there.  She 
had  been  given  up  by  the  doctors  here  as  an  incur- 
able consumptive  and  had  sold  all  her  goods  for  a 
few  hundred  dollars  with  which  she  was  to  pay  her 
fare  and  give  the  rest  to  her  mother.  I  became  in- 
terested in  this,  for  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had 
robbed  a  woman  in  distress  of  her  last  dollar,  and 
that  was  something  I  did  not  like  to  do. 

I  asked  her  if  she  had  money  besides  the  amount 
she  drew  out  of  the  bank  (she  had  told  me  of  taking 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  257 

the  money  from  the  bank),  and  she  said  that  was  all 
she  had  in  the  world.  I  could  not  think  of  keeping 
her  money  after  that,  because,  when  the  poor  wom- 
an reached  the  ticket  office  and  found  her  money 
gone  and  her  trip  abroad  impossible,  she  would  prob- 
ably have  died  of  the  shock.  So  I  determined  to  put  $ 
the  money  back  in  the  poor  Freneh  woman's  pocket 
I  walked  along  with  her  to  the  ticket  office  and, 
while  she  was  talking  to  the  agent,  I  slipped  the 
money  back  in  her  pocket.  She  bought  her  ticket 
and  went  aboard  the  boat  and  I  felt  pleased  that 
I  had  not  kept  the  money. 

That  evening  I  told  some  of  my  criminal  friends 
of  the  transaction,  and  several  of  them  seemed  dis- 
gusted with  me  because  I  had  not  put  in  some  money 
of  my  own  along  with  the  small  mite  the  woman  had 
80  that  she  would  be  cheered  up  a  bit.  They  thought 
it  mean  of  me  not  to  do  more  than  I  did  to  help 
along  a  woman  so  unfortunate  as  this  sick  woman. 

On  several  other  occasions  I  voluntarily  returned 
stolen  money  to  people  when  I  found  out  that  they 
were  more  in  need  of  it  than  myself.  I  stole  a  satchel 
from  a  woman  in  a  bank  once  and  it  contained  a  few 
hundred  dollars.  The  next  day  I  discovered  in  the 
paper  that  the  woman  was  blind  and  I  was  referred 
to  as  the  meanest  kind  of  a  thief.  When  I  learned 
this  I  hastened  to  return  the  money  to  the  unfortu- 
nate woman.  I  never  could  sleep  easy  if  I  thought 
that  any  really  deserving  person  suffered  from  my 
thieving.  I  tried  to  confine  my  work  to  people  who 
could  afford  to  lose  their  money  and  would  soon 


258  SOPHIE  LYONS 

forget  tlie  affair.  A  very  poor  person  who  loses 
the  savings  of  a  lifetime  never  gets  over  the  shock 
of  his  or  her  loss  and  it  causes  real  suffering.  It 
didn't  worry  me  any  to  make  people  feel  resentful 
and  indignant,  but  I  could  not  bear  the  thought  of 
making  anybody  unhappy. 

I  was  in  Paris  many  years  ago  and  stopping  at 
one  of  the  most  fashionable  hotels  in  the  city.  Mrs. 
Lorillard,  the  society  woman,  was  occupying  rooms 
adjoining  mine,  and  I  was  trying  to  get  her  jewelry. 
She  always  carried  a  great  amount  of  jewelry  with 
her,  and  I  knew  the  prize  was  a  good  one.  She  had 
two  maids  with  her,  one  of  whom  had  to  keep  watch 
over  two  satchels  in  which  the  jewelry  was  secreted. 

The  maids  were  honest  girls  and  we  could  not 
do  any  business  through  them,  but  we  followed  the 
party  from  place  to  place  expecting  that  some  time 
the  girl  would  forget  to  take  proper  care  of  her 
satchels,  and  then  our  opportunity  to  steal  them 
would  arrive.  A  few  days  after  Mrs.  Lorillard  had 
settled  at  this  hotel  she  attended  some  reception  in 
Paris  and,  of  course,  her  jewelry  bags  had  to  be 
taken  from  the  hotel  safe,  where  they  had  been 
placed  for  safety. 

Mrs.  Lorillard  picked  out  the  particular  pieces  of 
jewelry  she  wanted  to  wear  at  the  reception,  and 
closed  up  the  two  bags,  turning  them  over  to  the 
maid  to  place  in  the  safe.  The  maid  came  out  of 
the  apartment  with  the  two  bags,  and  I  met  her  in 
the  hall  and  began  to  ask  her  some  trivial  question. 
She  stopped  to  talk  with  me  and  laid  down  the  bags. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  259 

While  I  kept  her  engaged  in  conversation  a  comrade 
of  mine  crept  up,  substituted  another  bag  for  one 
of  the  jewelry  receptacles  and  skipped  off.  I  con- 
tinued to  talk  a  little  longer  and  then  the  girl  and 
I  parted,  she  going  downstairs  to  the  safe  with  the 
two  bags,  not  suspecting  that  I  had  deliberately  held 
her  in  conversation  while  my  friend  had  taken  one 
of  the  precious  bags. 

My  associate  went  to  another  hotel  and  concealed 
the  jewelry,  while  I  stayed  there  in  my  room,  not 
wishing  to  attract  attention  by  leaving  at  such  a 
critical  time,  for,  after  the  robbery  was  discovered, 
if  it  had  been  found  that  I  had  left  at  the  same 
time  it  would  have  been  natural  for  suspicion  to  be 
directed  at  me. 

The  following  day,  when  the  bags  were  sent  for 
in  order  for  Mrs.  Lorillard  to  put  back  the  jewels 
she  had  worn  at  the  reception,  it  was  found  that  one 
of  the  bags  was  missmg  and  there  was  great  excite- 
ment. Detectives  by  the  score  were  sent  for  and 
the  whole  hotel  was  searched  top  and  bottom  for 
a  clew. 

That  evening,  after  I  had  retired,  I  heard  a  woman 
sobbing  in  the  adjoining  room,  and,  as  the  sobs  con- 
tinued for  some  time,  I  knocked  and  asked  if  I  could 
be  of  assistance  to  her.  She  opened  the  door  and 
invited  me  into  her  room.  It  was  Mrs.  Lorillard. 
She  told  me  of  the  robbery  and  said  that  it  was  not 
the  jewelry  she  worried  about  but  the  loss  of  a  pic- 
ture of  her  dead  child  which  was  very  dear  to  her. 
She  thought  more  of  the  picture  than  the  jewels 


260  SOPHIE  LYONS 

and  her  grief  over  its  disappearance  was  pathetic 
I  consoled  her  as  best  I  conld,  and  told  her  I  had 
had  some  experience  as  a  detective  and  thought  I 
could  secure  the  return  of  the  picture  without  any- 
trouble,  especially  as  it  was  not  valuable  to  the 
thieves.  The  following  day  I  took  back  the  picture  ] 
to  the  woman  and  she  was  overjoyed  at  its  return. 
After  remaining  in  the  hotel  long  enough  not  to 
excite  suspicion  by  my  departure,  I  left  to  meet  my 
pals  and  divide  the  proceeds  of  the  job.  The  jewels 
we  had  taken  were  the  best  in  the  Lorillard  collec- 
tion, and  each  one  of  the  party  made  a  good  profit 
on  the  transaction.  A  number  of  years  after  this 
event  Mrs.  Lorillard  committed  suicide,  which  was 
induced  by  a  spell  of  melancholy,  brought  on  prob- 
ably by  thoughts  of  her  dead  boy,  whom  she  dearly 
loved. 

I  have  already  mentioned  how  Langdon  W.  Moore, 
the  notorious  bank  burglar,  whose  activities  in  New 
England  made  him  more  feared  throughout  that  sec- 
tion than  any  other  criminal  who  ever  operated, 
once  frustrated  an  attempt  to  rob  a  bank  at  France- 
town,  New  Hampshire,  after  having  consented  to 
participate  in  it,  because  the  bank  was  located  near 
his  own  birthplace  and  he  did  not  feel  like  robbing 
his  parents'  old  neighbors. 

This  man  Langdon,  like  many  other  criminals  of 
the  same  caliber,  made  it  a  rule  of  his  life  never 
to  use  violence.  Frequently  he  abandoned  a  con- 
templated criminal  enterprise  upon  which  he  had 
spent  months  of  hard  work  because  he  found  that 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BUEGLAES  261 

he  could  not  carry  out  his  original  plan  without  in- 
juring a  watchman  or  other  person. 

Of  course,  when  hard  pressed  it  was  sometimes 
necessary  for  Langdon  to  fight  his  way  to  liberty, 
but  in  such  cases  he  always  made  reparation  to  the 
injured  man  as  far  as  lay  in  his  power.  On  one 
occasion,  when  he  had  fractured  the  skull  of  an  of- 
ficer who  had  sought  to  capture  him,  he  caused 
$2,500  in  cash  to  be  sent  to  the  injured  man. 

Other  criminals  frequently  exhibit  similar  noble 
qualities. 

Loyalty  to  his  comrades  is  another  trait  found  in 
almost  every  professional  criminal.  "Honor  amon£ 
thieves ' '  is  a  phrase  commonly  used,  but  few  realize 
upon  what  a  strong  foundation  it  rests.  I  know  of 
innumerable  instances  where  criminals  risked  their 
own  liberty  and  even  their  lives  in  order  to  assist 
a  comrade  in  danger. 

Mark  Shinburn,  the  noted  bank  burglar,  once  dis- 
played bravery  and  loyalty  of  a  character  which  is 
seldom  excelled  even  on  the  battlefield.     He  had 
participated  with  Eddie  Quinn  and  a  third  bank 
burglar  in  the  robbery  of  a  Western  bank.     Just 
as  the  three  were  leaving  the  bank  the  watchman 
appeared  upon  the  scene.    There  was  nothing  to  dt 
but    run.      The    watchman    opened    fire.      Quin 
dropped.    Without  a  moment's  hesitation  Shinbu:- 
stopped  in  his  flight,  although  the  watchman  wfca 
close  upon  them,  and,  lifting  his  fallen  comrade  to 
xiis  broad  shoulders,  continued  his  flight  at  reduced 
speed. 


262  SOPHIE  LYONS 

Shinburn  was  a  very  powerful  fellow  and  even 
with  his  wounded  comrade  on  his  shoulders  he  was 
able  to  outrun  the  watchman.  He  soon  caught  up 
with  the  third  man  of  the  party  and  they  made  for 
the  woods.  When  they  lowered  Quinn  to  the  ground 
they  found  that  he  was  dying.  The  burglar  had  only 
a  few  minutes  to  live.  Quinn  was  conscious  and 
begged  his  comrades  to  get  a  priest  to  administer 
the  last  rites,  realizing  that  his  end  was  near. 

The  two  men  with  him  knew  it  was  impossible  to 
get  a  priest,  but  they  wanted  to  make  the  last  mo- 
ments  of  Quinn 's  life  as  happy  as  possible.  To 
leave  the  woods  at  this  time,  however,  was  to  invite 
capture,  for  the  watchman  had  undoubtedly  aroused 
the  neighborhood  and  the  woods  would  naturally 
be  the  first  place  searched  for  the  fugitives.  Never- 
theless Shinburn  decided  to  take  a  chance  and  left 
the  dying  man  to  comply  with  his  last  wish.  He 
knew  that  it  would  be  almost  impossible  to  get  a 
priest,  but  he  broke  into  a  furnishing  store  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  woods  and  went  back  to  his  dying 
comrade  wearing  a  costume  very  much  like  that  of 
a  priest. 

The  approaching  hand  of  death  had  dimmed  the 
dying  burglar's  sight  and  he  had  no  suspicion  that 
the  "priest"  was  his  big-hearted  comrade.  In  a 
slow,  solemn  tone  Shinburn  spoke  words  of  en- 
couragement to  his  dying  friend,  and  the  unfortu- 
nate man  passed  away,  comforted  by  what  he 
thought  were  the  sacred  words  of  a  priest. 

But  instances  of  noble   deeds  among  criminals 


^UEEN  OF  THE  BUEGLARS  263 

whose  souls  are  generally  believed  to  be  wholly 
black  might  be  narrated  without  end.  These  men 
and  women  who  declare  war  against  society  only  to 
find  that  CRIME  DOES  NOT  PAY  are  not  without 
their  redeeming  qualities. 

Their  evil  deeds  are  published  far  and  wide,  but 
\ne  good  that  they  do  seldom  comes  to  light. 

SOPHIE  LYONS. 


THE  END. 


264  SOPHIE  LYONS 


AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  SOPHIE  LYONS 

FORMER    QUEEN   OF    CRIMINALS,   WHO   ANNOUNCES    THAT   SHf 

WILL    DEVOTE    THE    REST    OP     HER    LIFE    AND     HER 

FORTUNE     OF     $500,000     TO     SAVING 

FIRST  OFFENDERS. 

Sophie  Lyons  has  turned  reformer. 

With  the  mellowing  influence  of  years,  she  is  now  66, 
the  erstwhile  queen  of  women  criminals  has  decided  that 
crime  does  not  pay  and  intends  to  devote  her  fortune  and 
remaining  days  to  saving  others  from  paths  that  have 
been  hers. 

Her  new  resolution,  she  says,  probably  will  alienate  her 
husband,  ' 'Billy' '  Burke,  who  recently  completed  a  prison 
term  in  Stockholm,  Sweden.  "I  want  to  accomplish  his 
reformation  more  than  I  do  any  other  person's,  no  matter 
what  the  cost,"  she  declared.  "He  is  weak  and  easily 
tempted,  and  his  criminal  operations  were  not  induced  by 
necessity,  as  were  mine.  If  my  plans  will  help  to  make 
him  a  good  man  I  shall  feel  they  are  not  in  vain." 

In  her  modest  little  home  Mrs.  Lyons-Burke,  who  for 
40  years  was  known  intimately  to  the  police  of  two  conti- 
nents and  whose  acquaintance  with  the  interior  of  jails  and 
prisons  is  world-wide,  outlined  to  a  representative  her 
plans  for  the  redemption  of  criminals. 

"I  haven't  a  great  many  years  to  live  and  I  am  worth 
half  a  million  dollars,"  Mrs.  Burke  said.  "I  want  to 
make  amends  as  far  as  possible  for  what  I  have  done  in 
the  past.  I  have  lived  a  straight  life  for  25  years,  and 
have  accumulated  much  property  by  legitimate  means 
But  there  is  something  I  crave  more  than  money.  Do 
you  know  what  that  is?  It  is  the  respect  of  good  people. 
Maybe  I  can  get  some  of  this  by  showing  that  I  am  not 
all  bad  and  that  I  am  sincere  in  my  effort  to  help  others. ' ' 

Great  tears  coursed  down  Mrs.  Burke's  face  as  she  told 
of  recent  efforts  to  Obtain  the  good-will  and  friendship  of 
persons  whose  respectability  is  unquestioned.    One  of  these 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  265 

is  a  p.istor  of  a  Detroit  church,  who,  she  said,  had  urged 
her  to  talk  to  his  congregation  on  the  futility  of  a  life  of 
crime.  She  declined,  feeling  that  she  had  no  right  to  in- 
trude herself  among  church  people. 

In  her  scheme  for  the  saving  of  criminals,  Mrs.  Burke 
said  that  she  intends  to  pay  particular  attention  to  first 
offenders  and  will  exert  every  effort  to  prevail  upon  them 
to  return  to  a  life  of  respectability.  "You  know  how 
hard  it  is  for  a  man  or  woman  to  secure  permanent  work 
after  leaving  prison?  I  am  going  to  help  some  of  these. 
They  will  find  a  friend  in  Sophie  Lyons/ 

Mrs.  Burke  said  that  she  was  considering  an  offer  from 
a  vaudeville  booking  concern  to  give  20-minute  talks  from 
the  stage.  "Do  you  think  this  would  be  a  good  idea?"  sho 
inquired  eagerly.  "I  have  had  the  same  proposition  from 
a  lyceum  lecture  bureau,  but  I  believe  I  can  better  reach 
those  I  want  to  reach  in  the  theaters.  If  I  decide  to  go  on 
the  stage  every  cent  of  the  money  I  get  will  go  to  carry 
out  my  plans  for  reformation  and  to  charity. ' ' 

That  she  has  an  ambition  to  accomplish  much  good  and 
to  die  poor,  was  Mrs.  Burke's  declaration.  "My  children 
are  grown  and  self-supporting,  and  all  my  money  and  real 
estate  will  go  to  save  criminals  and  to  other  charities,"  she 
said.  The  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Chil- 
dren was  mentioned  by  Mrs.  Burke  as  being  one  of  her  fa- 
vorite charities.  "I  am  doing  something  for  this  organi- 
zation right  along,"  she  said,  "and  I  expect  to  leave  it  a 
substantial  bequest. ' ' 

SOPHIE   LYONS  AIDS  EVICTED  FAMILY 

REFORMED    CONFIDENCE    WOMAN    TAKES   IN    WHEBLE18,    WHO 
LIVED  IN  TENT 

VT2RSES  IN  JEWISH  BIBLE  INFLUENCE  HER  TO  ACTION — WANT3 
TO   SHOW   CHARITY 

Mrs.  Sophie  Lyons-Burke  was  reading  a  Jewish  prayer 
book  in  her  home  at  42  Twenty-third  Street  yesterday 
afternoon.  She  had  just  completed  the  following,  which 
is  a  prayer  for  joyful  occasions,  when  she  had  a  visitor: 


266  SOPHIE  LYONS 

"Thou,  O  God,  hast  always  been  gracious  unto  me  and 
hast  often  sent  me  joys  even  when  I  least  deserved  them. 
For  all  this  abundance  of  Thy  goodness  I  humbly  thank 
Thee,  and  for  the  new  happiness  that  comes  to  me  (and 
my  household)  my  soul  is  filled  with  gratitude.  Let  me 
not  grow  overbearing  in  prosperity  nor  arrogant  because 
of  my  success,  but  let  me  enjoy  Thy  blessings  with  becom- 
ing gratitude  and  humility.  Nor  let  me  ever  forget  that 
the  most  acceptable  thank-offering  is  to  bring  light  and  joy 
to  those  that  sit  in  darkness  and  affliction,  and  give  heed  to 
the  hungry  and  comfort  the  broken-hearted.  May  I,  by 
doing  what  is  pleasing  to  Thee,  continue  to  find  grace  and 
favor  in  Thy  sight. ' ' 

Everybody  knows  Sophie  Lyons.  They  know  about  her 
past  and  about  her  present  husband,  who  got  into  a  Swed- 
ish prison  through  a  little  affair  over  diamonds,  causing 
Sophie  to  cross  the  sea  to  cheer  him  up.  They  know  of  her 
utterance  that  a  husband  should  be  allowed  an  affinity 
now  and  then  to  add  to  the  zest  of  his  life,  but  in  this  in- 
stance she  appears  in  a  different  light.  Long  ago  she 
"squared  it"  with  the  police.  Now  she  is  evidently  trying 
to  "square  it"  with  a  higher  authority.  And  this  con- 
nects the  prayer  with  the  visitor. 

The  man  who  rapped  on  her  door  was  A.  H.  Jones, 
inspector  for  the  city  poor  commission.  He  was  weary 
and  almost  discouraged,  having  been  out  since  early 
morning  looking  for  a  home  for  the  Wheelers.  The 
Wheelers,  husband,  wife  and  six  children,  had  been  evicted 
from  their  residence  at  92  Cahalan  Street  Monday,  the 
owner  desiring  to  sell  and  not  to  rent  the  place.  From 
then  on  they  lived  in  a  tent-like  structure  in  a  vacant  lot 
alongside  the  house  they  had  inhabited. 

"You  own  a  cottage  at  51  Twenty-third  Street?"  asked 
Mr.  Jones. 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply;  "but  it  is  rented,  I  guess.  Any- 
way, a  man  has  agreed  to  take  it. ' ' 

Then  followed  the  recital  of  the  troubles  of  the  Wheel- 
ers, the  attempts  of  the  city  agent  to  find  shelter,  the  offer 
of  $10  a  month  for  the  barn  and  the  failure  because  of  the 
children. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  267 

Mrs.  Burke  thought  for  a  moment.    Then  she  smiled : 

"See  here  what  I  was  reading,'*  she  said.  "  'The  most 
acceptable  thank-offering  is  to  bring  light  and  joy  to  those 
that  sit  in  darkness.'  You  may  put  that  family  in  that 
house.  It  has  been  remodeled,  and  is  just  about  new.  It 
has  seven  rooms  and  a  bathroom,  and  will  be  all  right,  I 
guess.    I  will  tell  you  why  I  am  doing  this. 

"If  I  have  all  the  world  and  have  not  charity  I  can 
never  enter  the  gates  of  heaven.' ' 

The  Wheelers  moved  to-day.  Their  furniture  was  all 
arranged  about  the  tent,  so  there  was  no  taking  up  of 
carpets  or  anything  like  that,  loading  into  a  van  being  all 
that  was  necessary.  If  it  rains  to-night,  the  man,  incapaci- 
tated from  work,  won't  lie  awake  and  shiver  and  wonder 
how  long  it  will  take  the  downpour  to  soak  through  his 
shelter.  He  and  his  will  be  safe  beneath  a  roof,  a  roof  be- 
longing to  Sophie  Lyons-Burke. 


SOPHIE  LYONS  RETURNS 

"CONFIDENCE  QUEEN*  ■  ENDS   HER  TWENTIETH   TOUB  ©P  THE 

WORLD 

Sophie  Lyons,  once  called  the  "cleverest  crook  in  the 
world"  and  the  Confidence  Queen,  arrived  recently  in  the 
first  cabin  of  the  French  liner  La  Lorraine,  attired  in  the 
latest  Parisian  style  of  dress  for  an  elderly  woman,  several 
trunks  and  a  jewel  case  that  the  customs  men  made  her 
open,  unwilling  to  take  her  word  that  there  was  nothing 
dutiable  in  it. 

Sophie  is  worth  a  half  million,  she  says,  and  she  has  been 
for  the  last  several  years  living  "on  the  level"  and  looking 
over  the  world  from  the  viewpoint  of  one  who  has  or  be- 
lieves she  has  a  taste  for  literature.  Her  trip  on  the  Lot 
mine  was  the  end,  she  said,  of  her  twentieth  tour  of  th« 
world. 

The  customs  men  who  insisted  on  the  opening  of  the 
jewel  case,  made  fast  by  a  padlock,  were  surprised  to 
find  nothing  in  it  except  a  Jewish  prayer  book.  One  of 
the  prayers  that  Sophie  had  marked  ran  thus: 


268  SOPHIE   LYONS 

"Thou,  O  Lord,  hast  always  been  gracious  to  me,  and 
hast  often  sent  me  joys  when  I  did  least  deserve  them. 
For  all  this  abundance  of  Thy  goodness  I  humbly  thank 
thee." 

Sophie  said  she  was  a  Jewess,  despite  her  name,  which  is 
supplemented  legitimately  by  Burke,  Christian  name  Billy, 
who  is  in  a  Swedish  prison.  Sophie  admitted  yesterday 
that  she  was  65,  but  the  records  give  her  a  few  more  years. 
She  looks  younger.  She  said  she  had  spent  the  last  seven 
months  in  leisurely  circling  the  globe,  and  that  she  was 
engaged  in  writing  another  book  to  be  called  "Crime 
Queen, ' '  which  would  be  in  a  measure  autobiographical. 

Sophie  is  the  daughter  of  a  Holland  Jew  named  Van 
Elkan,  she  says,  and  her  grandfather  was  a  rabbi. 


SOME  LETTERS 

St.  Mary's  Hospital,  Detroit,  Mich. 
Mrs.  Sophie  Lyons  Burke, 

City. 
Dear  Madam: — 

I  just  learned  that  God  was  pleased  to  call  home  Mr. 
Burke  early  this  morning.  I  know  that  you  submit  to  God's 
holy  will. 

May  the  soul  of  Mr.  Burke  rest  in  peace.  In  the  language 
of  the  church,  "I  commend  to  Thee,  0  Lord,  the  soul  of 
thy  servant  William,  and  I  pray  Thee  that  Thou  who  earnest 
to  this  earth  for  his  sake  refuse  him  not  to  rest  on  the  bosom 
cf  Thy  Patriarch  Abraham.' ' 
You  have  my  sympathy  in  your  loss. 

Fr.  Kaupmann. 


"WHEN  DREAMS  COME  TRUE." 

Detroit,  Mich.,  Dec.  30,  1919. 
My  Dear  Madam  : — 

Yesterday  I  read  the  following  local  item  in  The  Detroit 
Free  Press:  "Mrs.  Sophie  Lyons  spoke  Sunday  afternoon 


QUEEN  OP  THE  BURGLARS  269 

at  the  House  of  Correction.  Crime  was  her  subject.  She 
contributed  $500,  to  be  used  for  relief  of  families  of  men 
confined  in  the  institution;  $500  to  the  inmates  of  Sing 
Sing,  and  $500  for  the  inmates  of  Auburn  Prison,  Auburn, 
New  York,  and  to  many  other  institutions  in  this  country." 
You  certainly  have  cast  your  bread  upon  the  waters. 

I  pondered  over  this  passing  notice  for  a  long  time,  and 
tried  to  connect  the  act  with  some  experience  of  yours  in 
the  long  ago,  when  you,  like  those  you  are  now  aiding,  felt 
the  pangs  of  penury  and  hunger  gnawing  at  your  heart 
and  dreamed  your  dreams  of  what  you  would  do  should 
fortune  ever  lift  you  from  the  depths  and  put  you  in  a 
position  to  be  independent  of  adversity's  stings. 

The  majority  of  men  in  prison  with  the  capacity  for  in- 
telligent thinking,  dream  along  philanthropical  lines — they 
get  so  little  of  what  little  would  make  them  happy,  that 
born  of  their  deprivations  is  their  thought  of  what  they 
would  do  should  fortune  smile,  so  subjectively  they  build 
asylums,  aid  the  helpless  and  feed  the  hungry.  But  when 
fortune  does  come  to  them,  the  dreams  that  they  dreamed 
when  they  were  groping  in  shadowland  are  forgotten,  or 
are  put  off  by  the  old  procrastinating  thought,  "when  I  get 
a  little  more,  thus  and  thus  shall  I  do, ' '  so  in  self-deception 
they  wend  their  way  and  finally  "go  down  to  the  vile  dust 
from  whence  they  sprung,  unwept,  unhonored  and  un- 
sung.'' 

But  you  dreamed  true — and  your  acts  of  generosity  and 
helpful  words  to  the  closed-ins  will  bear  fruit  that  will 
shed  fragrance  on  your  name  when  earth  shall  know  you 
no  more.  No  matter  what  I  or  any  one  think  of  you,  your 
unpretentious  deeds  in  the  behalf  of  suffering  humanity 
will  be  your  monument.  As  a  good  lady  said  in  my  pres- 
ence, "You,  Sophie  Lyons,  are  joy  to  those  that  sit  in  dark- 
ness and  affliction,  and  God  will  bless  you  ever  more,"  so 
say  I. 

Needing  nothing,  wanting  nothing,  I  hope  you  will  accept 
this  letter  as  a  sincere  expression  of  my  appreciation  of 
your  labor  and  its  purpose.    I  am, 

Yours  faithfully, 

Benjamin  Williams. 


270  SOPHIE   LYONS 

Detroit,  Mich.,  April  28,  1921. 
Mrs.  Sophia  Lyons, 
Detroit,  Mich. 
My  Dear  Mrs.  Lyons: — 

I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  of  writing  yon  and  ex-i 
pressing  my  sincere  gratitude  towards  yon  for  the  kind 
and  noble  work  you  are  performing  daily  among  so  many 
broken-hearted,  unfortunate  people  who  feel  that  they  are 
by  the  world  forgotten  and  no  one  cares. 

When  in  the  most  gloomy  moments  a  kind  little  form  will 
come  and  scatter  seeds  of  kindness  (by  words  and  deeds), 
making  them  feel  that  it  is  not  all  of  life  to  live  nor  all  of 
death  to  die. 

In  my  mind  I  can  picture  you  before  them  in  your  own 
sweet  little  way,  telling  them  that  crime  does  not  pay,  and 
no  matter  how  dark  and  gloomy  it  has  been,  Our  Father 
can  wash  it  all  away,  never  thinking  of  what  you  are  to- 
day, nor  of  all  your  wealth,  and  the  pleasures  you  might 
derive  from  it,  instead  of  spending  your  time  lifting  up  the 
fallen. 

But  to  me  it  seems  the  only  joy  and  happiness  you  find 
is  in  uplifting  and  trying  to  help,  no  matter  what  creed  or 
color,  to  leave  the  past  behind  and  come  forth  with  a  clean 
and  honest  heart,  to  start  the  world  anew  and  not  fall 
again  in  sin. 

Words  cannot  express  the  good  you  are  doing  and  what 
I  myself  have  witnessed  not  only  in  words,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Lyons,  but  in  actions  as  well.  Never  have  I  seen  anyone 
so  willing  to  help  financially.  Recalling  to  mind  one  in- 
stance at  the  County  Jail,  when  you  gave  $10.00  to  help  a 
poor  girl,  and  I  can  still  hear  your  words  echoing  in  my 
ears  when  you  said,  "It  does  not  matter  whether  you  need 
twenty-five,  fifty  or  one  hundred  dollars,  it  does  not  matter 
so  long  as  the  girl  goes  straight."  And  patiently  here  at 
the  Detroit  House  of  Correction,  where  so  many  are  de- 
prived of  the  pleasure  of  the  world,  we  hear  them  speaking 
among  themselves  of  their  one  true  pal  and  her  last  visit 
and  anticipating  with  pleasure  the  time  for  her  next  visit, 
and  hear  them  singing  the  song,  not  Oh,  What  a  Pal  Is 
Mary,  but  Oh,  What  a  Pal  Is  Sophie.  My  dear  Mrs.  Lyons, 
I  could  keep  on  writing  for  several  hours  and  then  not 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  271 

explain  half,  but  I  know  yon  will  understand  that  I  appre- 
ciate not  only  what  you  have  done  for  the  girls,  but  also 
your  kind  and  noble  advice  to  me.  I  think  them,  over  and 
over  and  try  to  follow  your  footprints  and  hope  God  will 
spare  you  to  us,  to  encourage  and  guide  us  for  many  years 
to  come. 

Hoping  I  will  soon  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you,  I 
close  now,  remaining  as  ever  your  true  friend. 

Gratefully, 

Catherine  Ulrich. 


Detroit,  Mich.,  May  18, 1921. 
My  Dear  Mrs.  Lyons  : 

Remembrances  of  the  past,  running  through  my  mind 
to-day,  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  of  writing  to  you. 

Old  memories  give  me  new  hope  and  more  strength  to 
work  with  a  hearty  will  among  the  poor  unfortunates  that 
surround  me,  as  I  recall  to  mind  your  teachings,  and  I  am 
daily  trying  to  follow  your  footsteps  and  to  learn  your  way 
of  bringing  sunshine  to  the  dear  girls  who  have  had  the 
misfortune  to  be  here  under  our  own  care. 

God  knows,  and  you,  my  dear,  know  only  too  well,  what 
it  all  means  and  just  what  will  touch  the  heart  of  one  and 
every  one  so  they  will  be  content  while  here  and  long  for 
an  earnest  uplift  and  straight  and  honest  start,  when 
the  iron  bars  turn  them  to  their  freedom. 

What  a  Godsend  to  have  a  dear  little  lady  like  you  who 
is  always  willing  to  share  all  our  sorrows  and  cares,  and  to 
turn  all  darkness  and  sadness  to  sunshine.  It  seems  as  if 
you  were  an  angel  from  above,  never  tiring  nor  discour- 
aged, with  so  many  laying  their  burdens  on  your  shoul- 
ders, just  seems  the  same  as  saying,  Let  the  little  ones  come 
unto  me,  and  I  will  give  them  rest. 

I  just  feel  as  if  I  would  like  a  heart  to  heart  talk,  and 
I  know  it  would  be  answered  and  it  means  all  the  world 
to  me. 

I  was  just  thinking  of  the  evening  you  called  me  up  con- 
cerning Mr.  Burke's  illness,  how  faithfully  you  struggled 
and  worked  until  you  got  him  to  see  that  crime  does  not 


272  SOPHIE   LYONS 

pay,  and  to  turn  to  his  Creator  and  Maker.  Night  and 
day  your  little  body  never  rested  until  your  struggles  had 
been  rewarded,  and  he  had  clung  to  his  Father  in  Heaven. 
A  true  and  loving  wife  in  life  and  at  the  time  of  death  a 
comforting  angel. 

Not  only  here  at  the  Detroit  House  of  Correction  and  at 
the  County  Jail,  but  all  the  hospitals  are  visited  by  you, 
gliding  gently  from  bed  to  bed  of  sorrow  and  sickness,  giv- 
ing comforting  words  and  the  little  tokens  that  mean  so 
much  at  such  times,  brightening  many  broken  hearts.  But 
few  know  the  little  lady  of  the  noble  deeds,  but  God  knows, 
and  what  a  noble  reward  you  shall  reap  some  day. 

Just  comes  to  my  mind  an  evening  in  the  County  Jail, 
after  having  talked  and  remembering  all  the  girls,  when 
the  woman  who  had  charge  of  the  church  services  for  years 
came  by  and  you  handed  her  $100,  saying,  "  Just  a  remem- 
brance from  us  girls  for  the  many  kindnesses  you  have 
shown  us."  I  could  recall  many  more  instances,  but  I  do 
not  wish  to  tire  you,  so  with  best  wishes  and  hoping  to 
see  yoa  or  hear  from  you  soon,  I  beg  to  remain  your  true 
friend,  believe  me. 

Catherine  Ulrich. 


Detroit,  Mich.,  April  22,  1921. 
Mrs.  Sophia  Burke-Lyons, 

908  23d  Street,  Detroit,  Mich. 
Dear  Mrs.  Sophy  : 

Please  accept  my  sincerest  congratulations  to  the  great 
Holy-days  which  you  are  going  to  celebrate  this  evening. 
May  God  give  that  very  soon  your  people  will  be  free  from 
the  cruel  persecution  which  they  have  to  undergo  at  the 
present  time  in  the  different  parts  of  the  world  and  that 
they  may  enjoy  the  blessings  of  Almighty  God  as  they  did 
in  the  days  of  old.  For  you  I  pray  especially  every  day 
that  God  may  continue  to  bless  you  and  to  support  you  in 
the  noble  work  that  you  have  done  in  the  past  for  the 
relief  of  the  poorest  of  the  poor.  I  am  sure  that  God  is 
more  than  pleased  with  your  work  and  that  in  response 
to  it  He  will  give  to  your  noble  heart  that  peace  and  heav- 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  273 

only  joy  which  the  world  with  its  crimes  and  sins  will 
never  give  to  anyone.  Again,  may  God  bless  you,  dear 
Mrs.  Sophy,  and  may  He  give  you  still  many  years  to  con- 
tinue the  great  work  that  you  have  started  for  His  greater 
honor  and  for  the  salvation  of  your  soul. 

May  I  tell  you  the  reason  why  I  did  not  yet  call  you  up 
in  regard  to  our  visit  to  the  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop?  His  Lord- 
ship was  out  of  town  up  to  to-day,  but  as  soon  as  lie  has 
made  the  appointment  to  see  him  I  will  let  you  know  by 
'phone. 

Repeating  again  my  participation  in  the  joy  of  your  great 
holy-days,  I  remain  very  respectfully, 
Your  friend, 

Rev.  Ferd.  Grentzkampf. 


ct 


BEATING  THE  GAME. 


BEAD   WHAT   HERBERT   KAUFMAN,   PUBLISHER   OP    M'CLURE'S 
MAGAZINE,  SAYS  ABOUT  SOPHIE  LYONS. 

She  didn't  stand  a  show — the  cards  were  stacked  against 
her  at  birth.  She  entered  life  by  a  crooked  path.  Her 
mother  was  a  receiver  of  stolen  goods.  Their  home  was  a 
thieves'  meeting  place.  She  played  on  the  sidewalks  of 
an  unspeakable  street.  When  she  was  old  enough,  they 
sent  her  out  as  a  shoplifter  and  in  time  she  married  a 
cracksman. 

Nobody  ever  more  strongly  vindicated  the  theory  that 
criminals  are  born,  not  made. 

But  you  folks  who  are  cock-sure  that  it's  so  may  prepare 
for  a  jolt  on  the  solar  plexus  of  that  particular  conviction. 

Sophie  Lyons  beat  the  game.  She  bucked  the  odds  and 
won — triumphed  over  environment,  ancestry  and  rearing 
— turned  the  past  into  a  doormat,  wiped  the  mud  off  her 
feet  and  took  the  clean,  straight  road.  Her  talents,  legiti- 
mately directed,  made  her  a  rich  woman.  She  established 
herself  in  business  and  accumulated  a  fortune.  Now  she 
is  building  a  wonderful  home  for  wayward  girls. 


274  SOPHIE   LYONS 

What^s  that — unfair  to  dig  into  her  record  at  this  late 
day?  Why,  bless  you,  she's  been  telling  all  about  it  her- 
self. Sophie  Lyons  isn't  ashamed  to  acknowledge  what  she 
was — 'she's  far  too  proud  of  what  she  is.  A  wrong  start 
doesn't  count  when  you  finish  right. 

Herbert  Kaufman. 


Detroit,  Mich.,  March  24,  1921. 
Mrs.  Sophie  Lyons, 
My  Dear  Friend: 

I  have  been  reading  some  press  clippings  telling  of  your 
addresses  recently  made  by  you  in  the  House  of  Correction 
and  various  other  prison's  throughout  this  country,  and 
also  in  the  Capitol  at  Lansing,  Mich.,  on  the  subject  of 
capital  punishment  and  the  duty  of  the  public  towards  the 
criminal.  "What  results  come  as  the  reward  of  your  untir- 
ing, unselfish  efforts  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  know,  but 
if  your  work  is  to  be  measured  only  by  its  influence  upon 
one,  the  writer,  you  may  truly  feel  that  your  labors  have 
not  been  in  vain. 

You  know  that  to-day  I  am  not  without  respect  and  honor 
among  men.  Few  people  to-day  know  as  you  do  what  I 
once  was — a  man  pointed  out  by  criminologists  as  a  per- 
fect type  of  the  habitual  irreclaimable  criminal.  Years 
ago,  when  you  said  to  me,  "Find  yourself,  win  out  as  I 
have  done,"  I  laughed  at  you.  What  you  saw  in  me  God 
alone  knows,  but  you  had  faith  that  was  lacking  in  myself, 
not  because  of  weak  willing  power.  The  incentive  was 
lacking.  I  who  had  listened  to  Eloquence  pleading  for 
my  life  as  forfeit  for  an  act  done  in  a  mad  moment — to  re- 
form, to  rise  like  the  fabled  bird  of  old  from  my  own  ashes 
and  become  a  new  and  better  man.  Absurd.  But  you 
persisted,  encouraged  and  gave  of  your  means  to  aid  me  in 
the  initial  steps.  To-day  I  can  truly  say,  "You  Created  a 
Man." 

I,  who  know  the  intensity  of  your  appeal,  your  untiring 
efforts  night  and  day,  in  behalf  of  poor  souls  groping  in 
the  shadows  of  want  and  sin,  can  appreciate  the  sacrifice 
you  make  for  fallen  men  and  women.    But  does  society 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  275 

appreciate  ?  I  fear  not — fully.  But  I  know  there  are  hearts 
that  experience  a  warm  glow  at  mention  of  your  name — 
the  ones  to  whom  you  gave  of  your  strength  until  they 
were  strong  enough  to  stand  alone.  Your  belief  is  that 
there  is  a  little  germ  of  good  in  every  man,  and  that  it  is 
far  better  to  cultivate  this  little  seed  until  it  shall  ripen 
into  the  heart  of  an  honest,  upright  man — God's  highest 
work — than  to  bury  it  from  the  glory  of  God's  sun  till  it 
shall  moulder  and  die. 

As  I  finished  the  last  sentence  the  voice  of  my  little 
daughter,  my  only  child,  so  precious  to  my  heart,  came 
echoing  in  from  a  nearby  room — "Papa,  don't  leave  us 
any  more.  Mama  cries  all  night  when  you  don't  come 
home."  I  was  chilled  by  a  strangely  awesome  thought: 
What  might  have  been  had  not  twelve  men  in  an  unfriendly 
atmosphere  been  brave  enough  to  return  a  just  verdict? 
1 '  Thou  shalt  not  kill ' '  is  the  biblical  admonition,  yet  to-day 
there  are  men  who  would  throw  civilization  backwards  hun- 
dreds of  years  by  enacting  a  law  in  Michigan  to  restore  the 
death  penalty. 

Strange  that  our  law-makers  do  not  recognize  the  fact 
that  the  men  that  the  courts  sentence  to  the  " chair' '  or  the 
hangman's  knot  are  but  in  few  instances  from  the  ranks 
of  the  known  criminal. 

The  majority  of  men  arrested  for  killing  their  fellow 
men  are  just  children  grown  up.  I  am  glad  that  you  stand 
ready  to  use  your  voice,  pen  and  means  in  opposition  to 
all  measures  that  make  for  retrogression — not  progress. 

God  certainly  calls  you  to  do  this  noble  work,  and  if  the 
many  who  listen  to  your  pleadings  will  make  the  spirit  of 
your  counsels  their  guide,  and  will  reform,  lead  good,  up- 
right lives,  they  will  find  when  they  are  placed  in  God's 
great  crucible  and  the  final  analysis  is  made  they  will  be 
pronounced  pure  gold. 

In  your  efforts  in  the  behalf  of  the  down  and  outers — 
many  perhaps  more  sinned  against  than  sinning — you  have 
the  good  wishes  and  the  good  thought  of  your 
Sincere  friend, 


276  SOPHIE   LYONS 

Detroit,  Mich.,  April  7,  1921. 
Mrs.  Sophie  Lyons  Burke, 

908  Twenty-third  Street,  Detroit,  Mich. 
Dear  Mrs.  Burke: — 

Detroit  owes  you  a  debt  of  gratitude  and  praise  for  the 
splendid,  self-sacrificing  work  of  love  and  mercy  you  are 
doing  for  the  criminals  and  poor  unfortunates  in  the  jails 
and  penal  institutions  in  our  city.  The  value  of  the  saving 
and  genuine  reformation  of  a  criminal  cannot  be  valued 
in  dollars  and  cents. 

Many  of  us  do  not  realize  the  distress  and  suffering  exist- 
ing, especially  among  the  women  unfortunates,  who  per- 
haps through  a  lack  of  proper  home  training  and  environ- 
ment and  other  circumstances,  over  which  they  have  had 
no  control,  have  gone  astray. 

Women  and  girls  have  to  contend  against  greater  odds 
than  man,  and  surely  too  much  help  cannot  be  bestowed 
upon  them. 

It  is  sincerely  hoped  that  your  life  may  be  spared  many 
years  to  continue  your  noble,  philanthropic  work,  and  that 
many  more  will  follow  your  example  to  help  make  Detroit 
the  best  and  safest  city  in  which  to  live. 
Respectfully  yours, 

Jno.  S.  Henry. 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  AN  AMERICAN  SOLDIER. 

Third  Army  Corps  Union,  Kingston,  May  30, 1917. 
Mrs.  Burke: 

In  compliance  with  your  request  by  mail,  your  flag  was 
spread  over  the  "low  green  tent"  where  your  father  sleeps, 
and  Mr.  Downs,  the  caretaker  of  Willwyck  Cemetery,  as- 
sures me  that  he  will  take  care  of  it  and  spread  it  on  your 
father's  grave  on  each  recurring  Memorial  Day. 

The  regulation  marks  and  flag  mark  this  grave  as  that 
of  all  members  of  Pratt  Post. 

Respectfully  yours, 

James  H.  Everett, 
Comd.  Pratt  Post,  G.  A.  R. 


QUEEN  OF  THE  BURGLARS  277 

Seattle,  Wash.,  March  29,  1921. 
To  My  Sorrowing  Mother: 

Have  just  received  your  very  kind  letter  with  terrible 
news  of  the  anticipated  action  by  the  Michigan  State  Legis- 
lature in  reference  to  death  penalty,  etc. 

I  must  confess  that  this  is  very  disappointing,  and  I  can 
fully  realize  the  terrible  shock  that  it  has  given  my  mother, 
also  the  grief  and  sorrow  that  you  have  suffered  in  finding 
that  your  efforts  to  help  inculcate  the  spirit  of  charity  and 
kindliness  in  modern  legislation  have  been  unavailing  at  this 
time. 

In  your  ■sorrows  and  trials,  believe  me,  Mother  dear,  I 
join  you,  but  as  our  Lord  said,  Father,  forgive  them.  They 
know  not  what  they  do.  So  we  likewise  must  be  charitable 
and  forgiving  too. 

Not  long  ago  we  had  the  very  same  question  come  before 
the  people  of  this  State.  Everybody  had  the  right  to  vote 
for  or  against  the  death  penalty,  and  I  can  assure  my 
Mother  that  I  voted  No.  Furthermore,  I  persuaded  many 
others  to  do  the  same,  but  nevertheless  it  was  passed  and 
now  stands  as  a  relic  of  the  dark  ages  and  a  black  mark 
of  barbarism  on  the  statutes  of  this  sovereign  common- 
wealth. 

As  you  have  so  often  said,  the  lash  and  scaffold  do  not 
make  for  good  citizenship,  but  education  and  kindly  Chris- 
tian teaching  are  the  methods  by  which  our  people  and  the 
whole  world  can  be  brought  to  a  higher  plane  of  civiliza- 
tion, and  I  believe  as  my  Mother  has  so  often  started,  that 
no  other  means  will  avail. 

While  our  lives  have  been  lived  apart,  I  still  have  the 
most  beautiful  recollection  of  my  Angel  Mother  teaching 
me  to  lisp  my  baby  prayers,  also  the  many  examples  of 
those  who  were  not  living  properly  pointed  out  as  beinfc 
wrong,  and  that  if  I  wished  to  grow  up  to  be  a  good  man 
who  would  gladden  your  declining  years,  that  I  would  also 
remember  your  teachings  and  be  governed  accordingly,  and 
to-day  you  have  the  assurance  from  your  son  that  he  has 
never  forgotten  those  wonderful  words  of  wisdom,  and  I 
regret  that  others  have  not  done  so,  too,  because  a  Mother 
can  impress  upon  the  minds  of  her  babies  those  principles 
which  make  for?  the  highest  and  best  types  of  citizenship. 


27, 


8  SOPHIE  LYONS 

Well,  Mother  dear,  you  have  the  satisfaction  and  con- 
solation of  knowing  that  you  left  no  stone  unturned  in 
your  efforts  to  prevent  this  barbarous  act  of  legislation  from 
disgracing  the  statutes  of  our  State,  and  when  one  has  done 
all  that  could  be  done  and  there  is  nothing  more  that  you 
can  do  in  the  matter,  therefore  I  should  suggest  that  the 
subject  be  dismissed,  otherwise  it  will  worry  you  to  the 
extreme,  and,  as  you  know,  nothing  can  be  accomplished 
by  brooding.  It  is  better  that  we  take  up  some  other  sub- 
ject and  probably  success  will  crown  our  efforts  the  next 
time. 

Will  close  now  with  love  and  affection, 
Your  most  devoted  son, 

Victor. 


k  *'          5 

\ 

^ 

¥^3*  * 

• 

4 

••*»     tSBSHl-,,:.     ' 

y* 

^#y 


At      --    \ 


*m^a 


I \ 


5i 

^p 

'>». 

^  #^ 

r^| 

f 

v  -s 

*f 

i 

*n 

• 

V 

t 

ARSENE  LUPIN 

Gentleman  Burglar. 
By  MAURICE  LEBLANC 


So  lovable  a  rascal  aj 
ARSENE     LUPIN     hai 

not  appeared  in  fictioi 
since  "Raffles"  anc 
"  Sherlock  Holmes  ' 
made  a  nar~  e  for  them 
selves,  a^i  brough' 
fame  and  fortune  tc 
their  creators. 

This  book  sets  fortr. 
at  length  the  extraordi- 
nary  and  entertaining 
adventures  of  a  viva- 
cious prince  of  rascals, 
who,  withal,  is  so  sym- 
pathetic that  all  he  doe! 
seems  just,  and  in  spite 
of  one's-self,  one  sc 
hopes  for  the  success  oj 
his  enterprises,  thai 
morality  itself  seems  tc 
be  on  his  side. 

Those  who  appreciate 
exciting,  absorbing 
tales  of  adventure,  anc 
who  enjoy  a  contest  oi 
brains  rather  than  61 
brawn,  should  not  fat 
to  read  this  book. 


12mo,  cloth  bound. 
Prices  $1.00     postpaid, 


BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


/-mu 3i  Dnqi 


TWO   GREAT   DETECTIVE   STORIES 

The  Adventures  of 

ARSENE  LUPIN 

GENTLEMAN  BURGLAR, 

.  , . AND  .  . . 

ARSENE  LUPIN 

versus 

HERLOCK  SHOLMES. 

By   MAURICE    LEBLANC. 

Not  since  the  great  success  and  wide  popularity  of  <;  Sherlock 
Holmes,"  has  there  appeared  in  rktion  a  character  so  interesting, 
so  vivacious,  full  of  gaiety  of  irony,  and  of  the  unexpected  as 
ARSENE  LUPIN.  Maurice  Leblanc  can  be  compared  only  to 
A.  Conan  Doyle,  They  have  the  lame  power  of  recital,  the  same 
capacity  in  intrigue,  the  same  science  of  mystery,  the  same  rigor- 
ous chain  of  facts,  tr-3  same  sobriety  of  means. 

With  Sherlock  Holmes  one  is  each  time  facing  a  new  robbery 
and  a  new  crime.  With  ARSENE  LUPIN  we  know  in  advance 
he  is  the  gui^  one.  We  know,  thnt  when  we  shall  have  un- 
ravelled ths  tangled  threads  of  the  story,  we  shall  find  ourselves 
facing  the  famous  Gentleman  Burglar.  But  with  the  aid  of 
processes  which  the  most  adept  are  not  able  to  fathom,  the  author 
holds  your  attention  to  the  very  end  of  each  adventure,  and  the 
dramatic  termination  is  always  the  unexpected. 

ARSENE  LUPIN  does  cot  steal,  he  simply  amuses  himself 
by  stealing.  He  chooses,  at  need  he  restores.  He  is  noble, 
charming,  chivalrous,  delicate,  Thidf  and  burglar,  robber  and 
confidence  man,  anything  you  could  wish,  but  so  sympathetic — 
the  bandit  !  If  you  appreciate  skill,  ability,  resourcefulness,  and 
a  battle  between  master-minds,  do  not  fail  to  read  these  books, 
which  we  have  just  published  in  two  vol.imes  under  the  titles  as 
given  above.  i2mo,  cloth  bound,  300  pages,  new,  large  type„ 
PRICE,  $1.00  PER  COPY,  POSTPAID. 
Yow  can  buy  these  at  any  bookstore  or  direct  from  us. 

J.  5.  OQILVIE  PUBLISHING  COflPANV, 

57  Rose  Street.  New  York 


